


Once Upon a December

by davonysus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, 25 Days of Harry and Draco, 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2020, Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, Christmas Lights, Early Bird, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Epistolary, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Holidays, M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Slow Burn, ginny to start bc epilogue things but its wholesome drarry endgame just wait okay, like THE MOST oblivious harry ever, mentions of alcohol (christmas drinks etc), no beta we die like men, two decades of slow burn (please don't hate me)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 39,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27823387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davonysus/pseuds/davonysus
Summary: Harry runs into Draco every December following the war.Then every December and September.Then every December and September and all the months in between, until it's forever.A Christmas fic with oblivious idiots, lots of pining and the road to forgiving themselves enough to realise they deserve happiness.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 58
Kudos: 65
Collections: 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2020





	1. 1998

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for 25 Days of Drarry 2020 - I will be posting a new chapter every day between December 1-25, each with a prompt attached!
> 
> Each chapter is a new year, starting with 1998 (end of DH).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt ](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/761408070617530368/783149789402628116/23_cardinal.jpg?width=326&height=490)

_December 1998_

There were only a few days until Christmas and Harry was in a frantic rush to buy the last of the presents he needed. Auror training had run overtime and now he was cutting it fine to make it back before the end of lunch. Why had he left this until the last minute again?

Rounding the corner out of Flourish and Blotts in a hurry as he clutched Hermione’s present to his chest, Harry checked the time on Fabian Prewett’s old watch and swore. He was going to be late. Knowing that Robards would forgive him for it didn’t make him feel any better about it either; the special treatment was really wearing on his last nerve, despite it being what got him into the Auror program to begin with. Taking a steeling breath, he soldiered on with the mission of finding a suitable gift for Teddy before sprinting back to the Ministry. Today was his last chance to peruse Diagon before the holiday events kicked off and though he loathed being out in the lunchtime crowds, he knew it would only get worse if he ducked back after training finished later tonight.

Harry paused, eyes falling on where Fortescue’s used to be. Barely aware of the tides of people flowing past him, it felt as if time stood still as his mind was transported back to so many summers ago, when that shop had been a safe haven for him. A sadness spread through him, chest tightening as he turned away and boxed his emotions up for a later moment. Now was not the time for sentimental memories. Pushing on, he was passing the entrance to Eeylops Owl Emporium when he heard shouts coming from inside and couldn’t help lingering to listen in on the gruff tones that were rapidly rising in volume.

“—filthy Death Eater like you, thinking you can come in here without consequence?”

“I believe you’ll find I have faced the consequences.”

It was a voice he would have recognised anywhere, being one he’d heard almost daily for six years. Though at one point in his life it would have given Harry great pleasure to hear Malfoy being harassed, these days it seemed to only leave a sour taste in his mouth.

“You know what your lot did to my sister? It’s not right that you get to waltz around here, scum like you, while she’s gone. I ought to have your head for that, boy.”

Taking another quick glance at the battered watch on his wrist, Harry sighed and cursed whoever was listening that he’d crossed paths with Malfoy today and even worse, that he was going to defend the blasted prat. Stepping through the doorway he caught sight of the raised voice immediately: a large man with a face that reminded Harry of Vernon Dursley and a bald patch the size of one of the rats in the glass casing next to him. He was red in the face to match what hair he had left and more importantly, had his wand raised in the face of the pointy git standing opposite him.

Clearing his throat, Harry stepped into the firing line and slowly raised the hand that wasn’t wrapped around _Wizarding Law of the 16_ _th_ _Century: Where We Went Wrong._ Steady movements were important here. It was like approaching a Hippogriff.

“Harry Potter!” The man shouted, sparks coming out of his wand as he flapped his arms around. “Surely you understand that something must be done about this Death Eater.” He spat onto the floor in front of him, seeming to vaguely aim for Malfoy but mostly just covering Harry’s shoes in saliva.

“Er, would you mind not waving your wand around?” Harry said carefully. “It’s a small space and—”

“My sister died because of him.” The man continued, oblivious to Harry’s warning as the crazed gestures sped up and his face became a deeper shade of puce. “He cannot just walk free! You must help me show him justice, I beg of you.”

Refusing to look back at Malfoy behind him, Harry took a step closer to the man and gently began to reach for his wand arm, stilling it with his touch. “I understand that you lost people you loved, Mr…?”

“Phillips. John Phillips is the name, Mr Potter.”

“Alright, John. I’m sure you’ve lost people and it hurts. Trust me, I know. But Malfoy here didn’t kill them and he’s dealing with his own actions now.” Harry paused, trying to think of their deescalation training last week. “Do you think your sister would want you here, threatening someone who doesn’t deserve it?”

“But he does!” John yelled, wand sparking towards the floor even as Harry tightened the grip on his arm.

“We all had to make choices, John. Be better than this. Make the right choice now.”

Grumbling, John snatched his arm away from Harry. “Can’t believe you’re defending him. I thought you were on our side, boy.”

“I just don’t want any more fighting,” Harry sighed, not realising just how true those words were until now. “And I don’t think you really do either.”

John merely grunted, turning on his heel and leaving the store. Harry watched as he merged into the crowd and became just one of many roaming the streets today, a sea of faces drifting past.

“You didn’t have to do that,” came the voice behind him. “I had it under control.”

Turning, Harry came almost nose to nose with Malfoy; it seemed that even with Harry’s slight growth spurt over the past few months, Malfoy still had a few inches on him. The sharp lines of his face were less harsh than they'd been when Harry saw him at his trial earlier that year. He even seemed less pointy somehow, like he was finally growing into his features, and it wasn't an unpleasant look on him. It was strange, being this close to his childhood nemesis and not feeling any of the usual animosity; the urge to rile him up seemed to have died and in its place was simply... nothing. They stood like that for a moment before Harry took a quick step back, not realising how close they’d been while he stared.

“Sure, Malfoy. Really seemed like you were doing just fine on your own.” Harry winced at the nasty tone that came out of his mouth, a habit built after so many years of rivalry. He grimaced, shaking his head. “Sorry. I didn’t really mean to come in like that but I heard him from the street…”

“Yeah, yeah. Saint Potter to the rescue, as always. Haven’t you got some kneazles to rescue from a tree or something?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed. “That was last Thursday.”

Malfoy frowned for a moment before realising the joke for what it was. Harry watched as he tried to mask his laugh with a cough, turning his face away.

“What are you doing in here anyway?” Harry asked. “Buying some kneazles to put in trees?”

Snorting, Malfoy looked back to where Harry stood expectantly. “What’s it to you if I am?”

He shrugged. “Just like to know who to return the next ones I save to.”

There was a moment as their eyes met without malice or aggression for possibly the first time since they were eleven years old on this very street. It was almost nice, until it became horribly uncomfortable and Harry had to turn away, though not before noticing the red flush that had come over Malfoy’s cheeks.

“I’m looking for an owl, actually.”

“Oh.” Harry looked to the back of the shop where there were at least twenty birds all clambering for attention, trying to screech louder than each other. “Any luck?”

“Does it look like I’ve had any luck yet?” Malfoy snapped, before grimacing. “I mean… I didn’t really get far, before that man pulled his wand out.”

“Do you want help looking?”

Cursing his awkward offer, Harry shifted from side to side as Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone mad. Perhaps he had. That would certainly be a better explanation than anything else his brain could come up with for his sudden want to assist Draco sodding Malfoy as he shopped for an owl. Looking down at his feet to spare himself the humiliation of being looked at as if he had grown an extra head, Harry was taken aback to hear a quiet _yes_ come out of the blonde’s mouth.

Glancing back at Malfoy he could tell that they were both equally confused and he decided to hell with it, he was here now and therefore he was going to help the git find an owl before carrying on about his day as if nothing had happened. So much for making it back to training on time.

Following Malfoy towards the ruckus deeper in the store, Harry looked around at all of the animals surrounding them. Maybe it was time to start considering another pet, he thought. It had been almost two years since he had lost Hedwig and while it still stung him to think about, being surrounded by all of these creatures made him think that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea he’d ever had. Considering who he was currently keeping company with, it would at the very least be far from the worst idea he’d had today.

Squeezing past an enclosure of particularly energetic crups, Harry turned and stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the sight before him: Draco Malfoy with a tiny ball of red feathers perched on his head. He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Malfoy’s expression was somewhere between panic and _what the hell do I do with this?_ and it took every ounce of control Harry had not to burst into hysterical laughter.

“I think you’ve found your… Can I call that an owl?”

“Shut it, Potter.” Malfoy’s voice lacked the usual hostile edge, taking on a panicked and almost shrill quality.

He couldn’t help himself; Harry curled over his stomach as the laughter took hold and shook through his body. Unsure if the scoff that came from Malfoy’s direction was imagined or not, he took another moment before straightening up and making eye contact with the blonde, wiping the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re getting rid of him,” Harry said with a grin. “Better just name him and be done with it.”

“She doesn’t usually like strangers,” came the voice from behind the counter. “So I think you’ve really made an impression.”

Malfoy sighed, the moment he gave in apparent across his features. “She’s hardly the mail owl I had in mind.”

The shop owner laughed. “She’s useless for long distance, and hates carrying anything heavy.”

Turning to glare at Harry—which was incredibly unfair, seeing as he’d done nothing more than witness the spectacle—Malfoy huffed. “I’ll be needing an owl as well then, I suppose.”

The red bird had barely moved from atop Malfoy’s hair at this point and Harry wondered if she ever would. Perhaps she would nest there. This set about a new bout of laughter that continued as Malfoy paid for both the bird and an eagle owl, glaring at Harry for majority of the transaction. He had to claim plausible deniability when Malfoy asked him what was so funny, knowing he’d be murdered on the spot if he admitted how hilarious he found the thought of Malfoy’s hair turned into a bird’s nest.

They left the shop together, Malfoy still wearing his sentient feathered hat.

“Any idea what you’re going to name her, then?” Harry asked.

Malfoy shot him a glare and Harry expected to be chewed out for asking, or more probable, ignored. It surprised him when Malfoy instead gave him an honest answer.

“I think she looks like a Hestia, don’t you?”

Looking back and forth between Malfoy’s face and the bird—Hestia, he corrected—Harry could do nothing but shrug. “I… guess so?”

“Good.” With that, Malfoy gave Harry a curt nod and an uncertain grimace that could almost have been mistaken for an attempt at a smile, before turning on his heel and disappearing with the rest of the Diagon Alley population.

What a strange turn of events, Harry thought. Definitely worth being late back to training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello most of these chapters are being posted at 6am immediately after writing them in the early hours with very little editing done .... so i shall be going back to edit this story properly in january!
> 
> for now, if you think you noticed any typos or inconsistencies, no you didn't!
> 
> enjoy my crazed experiment at writing something epilogue compliant but also cute and festive xx


	2. 1999

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt for this chapter was [this image](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149197251182632/11_outdoor-christmas-decorating-ideas.png)
> 
> mentions of ginny/harry in this chapter

_ December 1999 _

It was another case of right place, right time that had Harry running into Malfoy again almost a full year after the Eeylops incident. Harry was wandering back from town, appreciating the celebratory decorations that had been artistically placed through the park behind his house. Though Christmas was a few days behind them, the tree still stood tall and proud at the centre circled by countless light installations of various colours. Andromeda had told him that this was a slightly grander scale of festivity than the town usually engaged in over the holiday season, understandable considering the turn of the millennium only three short days away. Some of Edington’s residents had grumbled at the thought of such a display, their rural town gathering more tourists than was normal for the time of year. Harry was of a different opinion; he adored the fact that he could see a tangle of wires that lit up in all colours of the rainbow to shine ‘ _WELCOME THE YEAR 2000’_ large enough for him to see it from his kitchen windows.

So occupied were his thoughts as he relished in the delight he drew from this park that Harry almost didn’t notice the man standing partly obscured by the giant Christmas tree at first. It wasn’t until he heard an uncertain yet familiar voice calling out his name that his movements halted, turning his head to the right to see a familiar blonde regarding him with guarded curiosity.

“Malfoy?” He returned, taking a few hesitant steps closer. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Malfoy’s green coat—while in part to blame for camouflaging him behind the tree moments ago—was a stark contrast to the white snow that covered the ground between them. He wore dark jeans with what appeared to be a Slytherin scarf, looking every bit the prat Harry remembered from school. His features held their familiar angular quality yet were slightly softened around the edges, reminding him of their last encounter. The particularly notable difference seemed to be his expression; while it was cautious, the sneer Harry had seen so frequently seemed to have disappeared replaced with something less repulsive, less judgemental. It was a nice look on him, if Harry were being honest.

Realising he had spent far too long fixating on Malfoy’s face, Harry flushed. “I live in the village,” he explained.

“Oh?” Quirking a brow, Malfoy tilted his head. “Andromeda did mention a new magical neighbour.”

“You were visiting her?”

Nodding, Malfoy looked almost uncomfortable. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. Mother was the one to convince me in the end.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Do you think you’ll visit often?” Harry cursed inwardly, shoving his hands in his coat pockets while hoping that his question hadn’t sounded as excited as it did in his head. “I mean… Andromeda could probably use more family visits. It’s been hard for her.”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward silence, during which Harry refused to make eye contact and instead focused on absolutely everything else surrounding them. It wasn’t until Malfoy cleared his throat that he dared glance back at where he stood.

“I’d best be getting off.”

Panicked for a reason he couldn’t quite place, Harry stammered out something that sounded like _please don’t go yet_ … If he had been speaking Mermish through a straw above water.

“What?”

Great, now Malfoy was looking at him like he’d lost the plot and maybe he had, honestly. Nothing much surprised him any more. With a sigh, he kicked at the snow beneath his feet.

“I… Do you think you’ll come back soon? To visit Andromeda?”

Malfoy shrugged, still looking at Harry oddly. “Perhaps.

Another silence fell and Harry fished around desperately for a topic to keep the conversation going. In the end, it was the scarlet red light display behind Malfoy’s head that did the trick.

“How’s Hestia?”

There was a soft smile on Malfoy’s face for all of two seconds before he seemed to remember who he was keeping company with; Harry filed it away for future consideration and tried not to slip up with a responding smile of his own.

“She’s good. Follows me everywhere, even in the Manor.”

“Even—do you mean she leaves the Manor with you usually?”

Malfoy sighed. “She puts up an awful fuss if I make her stay home, that much is for sure.”

“I feel cheated! Why isn’t she here now?”

“Well I obviously wasn’t about to apparate with her, was I?” Shooting Harry a look that heavily implied he thought Harry was an idiot, Malfoy shook his head. “It’s her own fault for refusing not to fly further than a mile at a time.”

“So she’s safe without you there?”

The words were out before Harry’d had a chance to think them through; he meant not to imply that the Manor was unsafe but more that perhaps Hestia wouldn’t enjoy being alone there. Unfortunately the damage had been done. Malfoy’s face closed off from the unguarded expressions he’d been sharing for a few minutes and instead came the return of a scowl Harry knew better than he sometimes thought he knew himself.

“My mother wouldn’t hurt her. Surely even you—“

“I didn’t mean that, Malfoy.” Harry’s voice was quiet when he next spoke, eyes fixed on the ground. “Your mother saved my life. I don’t doubt she would be kind to Hestia.”

After a moment’s pause Harry chanced a glance at Malfoy again, his expression unreadable. With a sigh, Harry ran a hand carelessly through his hair as he thought of how to bring back the mood of a few moments earlier.

“I don’t want to hate you anymore, Malfoy.”

“Sure got a funny way of showing it.”

The slight change in tone was enough for Harry to plow ahead. “What do you say to… I don’t know. Not hating each other anymore. Being friends, even?”

Though he hadn’t meant it to sound so nervous, his voice was still infinitely calmer than he felt inside. Sucking up every ounce of courage he had, Harry kept his chin up defiantly and met Malfoy’s quizzical gaze head on, refusing to back down or look away.

Malfoy sighed. “Just because I don’t want to hex you anymore doesn’t mean I want to be your friend, Potter.”

“Fine.” Harry shrugged, extending a hand to Malfoy in invitation. “Let’s be not-friends, then.”

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy took the proffered hand and sealed the deal with a firm handshake. “You’re absurd.”

Harry grinned, taking great pleasure in noticing the twitch at the corner of Malfoy’s mouth in response. “You should try it some time.”

It took a few moments for each of them to let go of the other—smiling at your ex-rival was bound to distract you, Harry reasoned—and when Malfoy finally extracted his hand from Harry’s grip he took a step back, looking around uncertainly.

“‘Right, well…”

“I’d best be getting home,” Harry said with a short nod, not wanting to drag this out to the point where Malfoy would regret anything. “See you ‘round, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Malfoy uncertainly.

Turning on his heel and heading in the direction of home, Harry smiled as he heard the soft goodbye said behind him before the telltale crack of apparition sounded.

* * *

The clock counted down the seconds to midnight and Harry shouted along with the rest of them. _Three, two, one…_

Cheers erupted from every house in the vicinity as a new millennium dawned and with it, what felt like a fresh hope for wizardkind. Harry turned his head to Ginny beside him, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers for a moment before separating with a grin.

Looking around him now, Harry had never felt so grateful in his life. He had a place to call home, people who he loved and was loved by and a bright future ahead of him without the plague of a dark wizard hanging over his head. As his eyes took in the sheer joy that filled his home, he caught a glimpse of the golden numbers out in the park and had a private smile to himself, remembering the last time he’d strolled through that park fondly.

Perhaps he did have a New Year’s Resolution after all.


	3. 2000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter prompted by [this image](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149509784895538/17_hegdehog_mittens.jpg)
> 
> mentions of festive drinking in this chapter!

_December 2000_

Walking through the doors to Andromeda’s house on Christmas morning Harry was immediately enveloped in a warm embrace, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the scent of cinnamon and figs that filled the air. Pulling back after a few moments, Harry met Andromeda’s weary eyes and smiled down at her. Her grey hair was pulled back in a wispy bun, detailing just how much the lines in her face had become more prominent even since he had moved here last year. Lips pulled up in a smile, she stepped out of the way as Teddy came barrelling down the hallway at a dangerously fast speed.

“Harry!”

“There he is!” Harry cheered as he scooped Teddy up from the ground and spun him around in a hug. It wasn’t until he placed Teddy back on his feet that he noticed the extra set of feet standing further down the hallway from where Teddy had arrived.

Straightening up, it was evident in Malfoy’s expression that he hadn’t expected to see Harry here either. There was no scorn in his expression, none of the malice those eyes had once held. Just a wary caution that Harry felt echoed in his chest, along with a tentative want for something more. A hesitant question as to whether they could put it all behind them and hold civil conversation for the remainder of the morning; surely that wasn’t too much to ask?

“Harry, you remember Draco?”

Andromeda’s words brought Harry back to the room they were in and he gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.” Turning back to where Malfoy stood, he nodded. “Merry Christmas, Malfoy.”

“Merry Christmas, Potter.”

“Draco’s my cousin!” Teddy shouted excitedly. “And he bought my a dragon!”

Laughing, Harry looked between Teddy’s obvious glee and Malfoy’s poorly concealed amusement. “Is that so?”

“Not a real dragon,” Malfoy muttered.

Ignoring him, Harry lowered himself to where Teddy was bouncing around on the floor. “Can I see it then?”

Teddy sprinted down the hallway towards the sitting room, not bothering to give Harry an answer. He took that as an invitation to follow and quickly shucked off his oversized coat and snow-dampened boots by the door, opting to keep his beanie and gloves on while he defrosted a little longer. Walking down the hallway behind Andromeda brought him closer and closer to where Malfoy stood, the blonde only seeming to come to his senses and step back out of the doorway as Harry came close enough to smell sandalwood and—was that coriander?

So consumed by the bizarre yet enchanting combination of aromas that surrounded him, Harry almost walked into Malfoy as he rounded the corner. Taking a quick step back he saw Malfoy quirk a brow as his eyes were drifting down and Harry panicked at the thought of having done something embarrassing, like leaving his fly undone.

Malfoy snorted. “Nice gloves, Potter.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed but mostly relieved, Harry tried to ignore the flush he felt creeping over his cheeks as he looked down at them. The gloves were shaped like hedgehogs, with fluffy bristles on the back of his hands “Teddy got them for me, actually.”

“Haaaarrrryyyyy!”

The shrill shout came from the other side of the room and Harry took an abrupt step back from Malfoy, turning to give Teddy a sheepish grin.

“My dragon!”

Laughing as he watched a model dragon eerily similar to the one he'd been presented with during the Triwizard Tournament blow fire at the Christmas tree, Harry hoped that Andromeda was prepared for damage control.

“Zonko’s?” He asked Malfoy, eyes determinedly fixed on where Teddy was playing and not the blonde beside him.

“Weasley’s, actually.”

With a start, Harry turned slightly to see the expectant on Malfoy’s face. “Unexpected.”

He shrugged. “Hardly. They make good products, Teddy loves them, it’s conveniently closer to visit and Diagon doesn’t hold half as many memories as Hogsmeade.”

_That was unexpected._ “Ron didn’t mention the dragons when I was last in, that’s all.”

Sauntering across the room to join Teddy by the tree, Malfoy threw an amused smirk back over his shoulder. “Helps to have the right connections, Potter.”

“The right—What do you mean, the right connections? Ron’s my best mate!”

Harry continued to splutter as Andromeda chuckled to his right, patting him gently on the shoulder before wandering the other way to the kitchen.

“Would anybody like some tea? Or there’s some pumpkin juice, or I suppose we could start on the mulled wine you’re—”

“Wine please,” Harry sighed as he settled in on the loveseat. This was going to be a long morning.

* * *

It had been a few hours of dancing around awkward topics and pandering to all of Teddy’s requests while Andromeda looked on fondly; Harry still felt uneasy around Malfoy but it seemed to be more his nerves than any actual lingering resentment. As the hours passed he was also beginning to understand why Teddy had been so adamant on having both him and Malfoy there for their small Christmas morning celebrations. Perhaps it was seeing the way Malfoy and Teddy cared for one another, or the flowing conversation that Harry had witnessed out of the corner of his eye between him and Andromeda while supervising Teddy on his new broom. He suspected the wine also had something to do with it, liquid courage giving him the boost he needed to get through to lunchtime without starting a fight or embarrassing himself too terribly. They were sharing the couch and a bottle of eggnog now, Andromeda putting Teddy down for a nap in the other room

“I just think that us being…”

“Not-friends,” Harry supplied.

“Not-friends, whatever. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Harry snorted. “I can tell. You keep dodging all of my invitations to grab coffee, you claim that you’re never available—”

“Seeing as you only send them once every other month quoting very obscure hours of availability, I can hardly be held responsible for that.” The way Malfoy managed to sound so refined, so put together even as he begun to look slightly dishevelled was infuriating. Harry also couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy’s hair looked _stylish_ when it was messy, unlike his atrocious bird’s nest. “Its not my fault you’re a workaholic, Potter.”

“I am not a workaholic!” He snapped, shaking his head as he reached for the glass in front of him. “And I’ve sent you perfectly reasonable times. You were unavailable _every_ weekend in October! What kind of availability is that?”

“Don’t be jealous that I’ve got other priorities. It’s hardly a becoming look on you.”

Harry grumbled into his eggnog, taking a long sip as he ignored Malfoy’s chuckle across from him. Maybe ignored was the wrong word for what he was doing; the sound was carefree, genuine, something Harry had yet to really appreciate from the blonde, so he refused to respond but instead let it play over in his mind for a while before resting his glass atop his knee.

“What are you doing all the time then? Surely you have some weekends free. Or weekdays? Do you even work?”

“I feel that you’re insinuating I do nothing of importance with my time, Potter.”

He shook his head. “No, I just want to know what the ‘things of importance’ are.”

There was a pause, Malfoy seeming to think on his response quite intently for a while. After what seemed like an eternity, his shoulders dropped and he shot Harry a despairing look. “I’ve been dating.”

“Dating?”

Malfoy groaned, head falling into his hands. “I hate dating.”

Confused, Harry reached out a hand and then thought better of it, dropping it awkwardly between them. “Why do it then?”

“My parents want me married soon. Well, my father does; I know he’s in Azkaban—which is where mother is right now, incidentally, or she'd be here too—but his opinions still hold a lot of weight with mother. She also wants me to have someone keeping me company around the Manor after father’s eventual release, because they’ll be taking off to one of the properties in France. Something about… Less horrible memories, more opportunities.”

Harry pondered that for a moment, understanding where Narcissa was coming from. “Why don’t you just leave too? Surely the memories haunt you as well?”

Draco looked up, shooting Harry a dark glare. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I know you gave up the Black family home, but it wasn’t actually your family so it’s not quite the same—”

“The bloody hell it wasn’t. Sirius was my Godfather!”

“No, I mean the magic link your blood would have to the house. For once I’m not trying to insult you, Potter.

“Oh.” Harry was stumped for words now, civil conversation still feeling like uncharted waters. “Er, that still doesn’t explain what you do all the time. Dating can’t be all of it?”

Malfoy sipped on his drink, eyes fixed on the wall opposite them. After a moment he placed the drink down, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t much matter. Tell me about the Aurors, if you’re so determined to talk about work.”

“Not much to tell,” Harry said with a shrug. “It’s alright, I guess. Better before Ron left.”

“I did notice Weasley was in the shop more frequently these days. How are you handling it?”

Shrugging, Harry grimaced. “I’m happy for him, but it’s a bit different now.”

“Mm. And the other Weasley?”

“George?” Harry asked. “He’s doing—”

“No, no.” Malfoy brushed off Harry’s comment with a flippant wave of his hand. “The one you’re dating. Ginevra, isn’t it?”

“Oh! Yeah, Ginny’s great. I’m actually, er… Well, I’m planning on proposing in the New Year.”

Malfoy’s brows disappeared into his hairline for a moment as he blinked rapidly for a moment, before turning to Harry with a furrowed brow. “Isn’t that a bit sudden?”

“You’re the one talking about getting married,” Harry pointed out.

“Well yes, for my parents.” Malfoy picked up his glass again, running a finger around the rim as he kept his eyes fixed on the motion. “I thought you’d be the kind to do something sappy, like marry for love.”

“I am.”

“Oh. Well, good for you then.”

“You should too. Get married for love, I mean.”

Malfoy barked a hollow laugh as he tipped back the rest of his eggnog. Locking eyes with Harry as he placed his empty glass on the table in front of them, he raised an eyebrow as the corners of his mouth curled up in what wasn’t quite a smirk. “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not? I know you’re mostly doing this for your parents but surely they would still want you to be in love with whoever you marry, right?”

“I’ve got to keep the family name going. Have a Malfoy heir.”

“And you can’t do that with someone you love?”

Sighing, Malfoy shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not in the way you’re thinking, at the very least.”

“Why not?”

“We’ll save that conversation for another day.” Malfoy turned to glance at the grandfather clock in the corner and shook his head slowly, standing and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Lovely as this has been, Potter—”

“Perhaps it’s time we called each other by our names.” Harry caught Malfoy’s eye as his head swivelled to look back at where he sat on the couch, something that felt like both a challenge and an invitation passing between them. “Draco.”

“I…suppose that’s manageable,” Draco replied. “I’m going to go find Andromeda before I leave. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas, Harry.”

With an earsplitting grin, Harry watched as Draco left the room and tried not to dwell on the warmth spreading through him. _Must be the eggnog,_ he thought, as chuckles and new names echoed through his mind.


	4. 2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149613438730280/19_cocoa_w_marshmallows.jpg)  
> i'm about a week behind on posting (thanks life!) but will catch up soon 😅

_December 2001_

“What can I get you gentlemen?”

Mary stood before them, notepad and pen in hand as she prepared to take their orders. Harry liked her; dark features and style making her seem unapproachable at first glance but hiding a heart of gold and wicked sense of humour beneath the tough exterior. She’d been the first waitress they’d ever had at _Renaissance_ and Harry had quite the soft spot for her.

“I’ll take the Christmas cocoa, please. Extra marshmallows.”

Draco shot him an amused look. “What are you, like, twelve?”

Sticking his tongue out at Draco, Harry shared a conspiratorial look with the waitress as she hid her laugh behind the notepad.

“And for you?”

“The usual,” Draco drawled with a fond roll of his eyes. “Some of us are watching our figures.”

“Right,” Mary said with a quiet snort. Turning to Harry, she raised an eyebrow. “Not much for the festive spirit, is he?”

“We’ll have him drinking cocoa before the morning’s out,” Harry said, laughing as he saw Draco sighing and shaking his head across the table. “But bring him the horrible dark drink before he changes his mind and leaves, would you?”

He watched her shoulders shaking with laughter as she turned and made her way back to the kitchen. Then he turned back to face Draco, watching the man raise an anticipatory brow as he waited for Harry to speak first.

It was far from the first time they had seen each other since last Christmas at in Edington. They had first seen each other a few times in passing at the Ministry, though Draco was still infuriatingly silent on _why_ he was frequently there or what he did with most of his time; Harry had narrowed it down to something finance-related at this point. Many mornings later in the year had been spent in London catching up over coffee— _Renaissance_ was the best cafe they’d found and had become a tradition of sorts—along with one decidedly awkward attempt at a pub night in August. Harry still didn’t know what to make of it; Draco had insisted upon leaving after only half an hour, citing some nonsense about worrying he wouldn’t be able to hold his Firewhiskey.

This was the first time they’d seen each other since then. A few owls had gone back and forth after that—Harry had even gotten one letter delivered by Hestia while he was at work—but then Harry had gone away on a case and had to remain untraceable until his return last week.

“So, Draco.” Harry began uncertainly. “How have you been?”

Leaning back in the armchair opposite his, Draco shrugged lazily. “Well enough, I suppose.”

“That’s good then. Anything interesting happening?”

“No more than usual.”

“Er, right.” Scratching the stubble on his chin, Harry dug around for a comfortable conversation topic. “Seen Teddy lately?”

Taking satisfaction in the subtle smile that crossed Draco’s face, Harry listened along as he talked about all of the child’s antics in recent months. Their interaction was almost how it had been before he’d left for Norway, similar enough that were it anyone else Harry could have ignored the gut feeling that something was amiss. It became too much too quickly though, and he began tuning out Draco’s words while his thoughts spiralled and he instead found himself fixating on the movement of his lips

“Can I ask something?” Harry interrupted, regretting it almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

Raising a curious brow, Draco waited for Harry to continue with the thought.

“Er, right. It’s just, well, you remember that night at the pub.” At Draco’s nod, he continued. “You left quite suddenly, and seemed a bit… Different, I guess. Afterwards. In your letters.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah. I just, I only wondered…” _Here goes nothing,_ he thought. “Have you been avoiding me?”

Whatever question Draco had been expecting, that definitely wasn’t it. “You disappeared for three months— _three months!_ —and you come here accusing me of trying to avoid you?”

“It was for work! I didn’t just up and leave.”

“How’d your _fiancée_ feel about that one, huh? Right after the announcement and everything.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ginny was fine. It’s not like her life starts and ends with me you know. She had training, games away most weekends. It probably worked in her favour.”

“Are you—Honestly, Harry. You leave your fiancée for work, for months at a time, and think you’re doing her a favour? I thought you were marrying for love.”

“I am!” Harry snapped. “Why do you even care? You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t care about love, stop making fun of me for doing it.”

There was a stunned silence between them as Harry took in what he’d just said. It wasn’t necessarily untrue, just something he didn’t think he would ever find himself discussing with Draco Malfoy in a London cafe. Chancing a glance at where Draco sat across the table he found the other man staring wide eyed into his lap.

“Listen, Draco—I only meant, did something happen that night at the pub, y’know. You left and barely replied to my letters since then.”

“Hard to respond when they stop coming.”

“I already told you—"

“I know,” Draco said, cutting off Harry’s protests. “You left for work. Thank you,” he added as Mary set their drinks on the table between them. “Now can we change the subject please? You can even give me hell for drinking my 'boring' drink. This is me giving you explicit permission.”

“Draco…” Harry gave up at the blonde’s expression. “Fine. Tell me something you’ve done since I last saw you.”

“Life’s been much the same as always. Disappointing my parents and wondering why I tolerate you.”

“Rich coming from you,” Harry muttered. “Why do you always insult me?”

“Most would take it as a compliment, but most aren’t as dense as you.”

Harry glared as he picked up the steaming mug before him. “What does that even mean?”

“My point exactly.” With a sigh, Draco mirrored Harry and took his mug of black coffee into his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sick of feeling like he was the butt of all jokes lately, Harry pouted into his marshmallows and glared at Draco over the excessive amount of whipped cream that topped his drink. He watched as the other man rolled his eyes and cast a surreptitious wandless cooling charm on his mug.

“Can’t do that,” Harry said with a mouthful of cream and chocolate syrup. “‘M’an Auror.”

“Must you choose _now_ to stop being blind? Seems hardly fair.”

“Stop being so mean.” Darting his tongue out to clean the cocoa that he could feel around his mouth, Harry frowned as he watched Draco take a keen interest in the spectacle. “No, no. Don’t make fun of me for choosing the messy drink.”

“Hmm?” Draco questioned with a blank look. “Oh, right. I’ll admit, it doesn’t look as awful as I’d thought.”

With a grin, Harry signalled to Mary where she stood behind the counter with a bored expression on her face. “Brilliant. Too late to take that back now.”

Tipping back half of his coffee in one mouthful, Draco placed the mug between them and leaned back in his chair once more with a nonchalant yet genuine smile. “If you insist.”

Feeling giddy with festive spirit and warm with appreciation for how far they’d come, Harry ordered a matching drink and echoed Draco’s soft smile.

“We’ll be seeing you at Andromeda’s next week?” Harry asked.

“We? Oh, you and Ginevra.” There was a pause as he hesitated, before reaching forward to finish the rest of his coffee. “I’ll be in France with mother, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Stomach feeling slightly sick at that—probably the whipped cream, he reasoned—Harry gave a grimace in return. “Glad I caught you before you left then.”

Locking eyes with Harry over the rim of his mug, Draco gave a small nod. “Yeah. Me too, Harry.”


	5. 2002

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148789930262549/4_tree.jpg)

_December 2002_

_Harry,_

_Thank you for the invitation to your wedding with Ginevra. I am certain it shall be a glorious affair, however I am afraid I must decline. Mother would like Astoria and I to spend some time with her in France for the better part of next year and there’s a lot to be arranged on the properties before we are able to do so comfortably, so I’m departing tomorrow._

_Apologies also for having to cancel our coffee appointment yesterday. Things have become rather busy around here, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s been a nice change of pace if I’m to be perfectly honest with you, though it is unfortunate I was unable see you before taking my leave to the continent._

_My best to Ginevra, and I look forward to reading all about the wedding of the century in Les Nouvelles du Matin._

_Draco._

Harry read the parchment in his hands once, twice, three times over before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it with more force than strictly necessary at the waste bin in the corner of his enlarged cubicle. It missed by a mile, ending up on the floor for the milliseconds it took Harry to decide to send a wandless _Incendio_ towards it.

So that’s how Draco was going to be about it?

They’d had a slight argument a few days prior, though Harry still couldn’t entirely understand how it had come about. After a perfectly pleasant afternoon spent with Teddy and Andromeda, Draco had joined Harry for a drink at his home up the street. Two glasses of wine in and suddenly Draco was sullen and tight-lipped, nothing like the man he'd grown to know and everything like the boy Harry had seen immediately after the war. It had come out of nowhere, that was the worst part; try as he might, Harry could not connect his abrupt change in behaviour with anything the conversation had touched on. Work…Quidditch…Their respective friends…Merlin, they’d even managed to laugh about some of the things they’d put each other through in school. It seemed like Draco’s mood had come about when Harry had mentioned his new fiancee, though Astoria had come up many a time during their weekend coffees throughout the year without any mood swings he could recall. He’d only been asking if there was a set date for the wedding yet. He and Ginny had decided on April, with the invitations about to be sent the very next day.

Past that aspect of conversation his memories weren’t so clear; he’d skipped lunch that day and the wine had hit him harder than he intended. There had been a lot of name calling, that much he could remember. _You’re such an idiot,_ Draco had said. Most of it had been quiet, like Harry wasn’t supposed to hear him. Or maybe the wine had muddled his senses; it wouldn't be the first time.

_For an Auror, you sure are bollocks at piecing things together._ Rude, unnecessary and entirely untrue.

_I doubt that inviting me will end well for either of us._ Why? Wasn't Harry allowed friends at his own bloody wedding?

_Astoria’s parents are beginning to get—you know what, none of this matters._ None of it made any sense!

There wasn’t much rhyme or reason to any of Draco’s mutterings but it had clearly meant enough to him that he’d excused himself promptly and all but sprinted out the door to disapparate. That had been Thursday, and by the time Sunday rolled around and Harry had been hoping to pry some answers or even just sensical words from the other man, Draco had owled to say he would have to take a rain check on their visit to _Renaissance_.

Which left Harry here. Alone in his cubicle—probably alone in the office, everyone was at lunch—and infuriatingly confused by the actions of one Draco Malfoy. Without taking a second to stop and think about the repercussions Harry decided he’d had more than enough of this; work could manage without him pushing paper for the afternoon. Taking off his Auror robes and shrinking them down as he made his way to the elevators, he felt the familiar rage beginning to build under the surface of his skin as he marvelled at the audacity of Draco blowing him off like this for the foreseeable future. What in Merlin’s name did the prick think he was playing at?

Remembering gleefully that Draco had mentioned getting the Manor floo hooked up to the Ministry, Harry opted out of apparating in favour of throwing some green powder into the flames. He really didn’t feel like dealing with a long walk up the driveway today, or arguing with Cillor at the front door. Speaking his destination into the hearth, Harry held his breath and clamped his eyes shut as everything spun around him for a few moments before the world slowed to a more bearable speed. Brushing his clothes free of any stray soot, he stepped out into a pristine room painted in light beige tones with gold accents, deep red carpet and a ceiling high enough to make the Great Hall jealous.

It wasn’t until he heard the unmistakably not-Draco’s throat clear to his left that Harry realised he may have been a bit rash in his actions and he froze, heart beating out of his chest.

“Mister Potter,” came the unfamiliar voice. “Draco mentioned he owled. He was stupid enough to think you wouldn’t come here.”

“Sorry?” Harry asked as he turned to take in the woman standing before him.

Pale blonde hair twisted up on top of her head, highlighting the sharp features of her undeniably beautiful face. Her complexion was alabaster—they would have very pasty kids, Harry thought to himself—with rosy tint on her cheeks and lips. She was in casual wear from what he could tell: a simple turquoise sweater and dark wash jeans. The reflection from her engagement ring was so bright Harry thought it might blind someone on a sunnier day than today.

“Perhaps stupid isn’t the correct word in this instance.” She smiled at him, the kind of smile that gave the impression that her friendly nature could become something darker in a heartbeat if you wronged her. “Though I did warn him that you were likely to come barging in. I expected the front door, if we’re being perfectly candid.”

“Er…”

“Would you care for some tea, Mister Potter?”

Harry was at a loss for words, not sure they were both participating in the same conversation. “Just Harry’s fine.”

“Well, Harry. Tea?” She gestured to a table by one of the giant windows that looked out on presumably the Manor grounds. “I can have Cillor bring some for us now.”

“That will be alright, Miss—”

“Oh, but where are my manners? Astoria Greengrass, soon to be Malfoy. Apologies for presuming you knew.”

Shaking his head slowly, Harry cleared his throat. “I wasn't sure. Draco’s spoken about you, of course, I just haven’t seen any photos in the _Prophet_.”

“My family is quite private.”

“I see.” Harry stood watching her expression give nothing away of what was going on beneath that mask. It unnerved him for some reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Giving up, he turned to examine the rest of the room, eyes landing on the grandiose Christmas tree in the far corner. It stretched at least halfway to the ceiling, but what drew Harry’s attention most of all was the sheer number of baubles and lights adorning it. He suspected there was more tinsel than branches. Gorgeous as it was, it had an air of _warmth_ about it and felt out of place in this ostentatious Manor room.

Astoria’s voice came from closer beside him than he previously recalled. “Narcissa likes to decorate. I think it helps keep her focussed, keeps her calm. This will likely be her last year visiting here, so she’s rather outdone herself.”

“Oh.” Harry looked down at his feet, feeling strange thinking about the older Malfoys even this long after the war.

“Draco and I will be coming back, if that’s what has you so worried.”

Lifting his head at Astoria’s amused tone, Harry cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. “Yeah, Draco mentioned in his letter. I’m not sure there’s any reason for me to worry though.”

“I want you to know, Harry. We’ll be getting married no matter what. He needs an heir, I need a husband.” She was staring directly into his eyes now, her gaze feeling like it was burning its way through his skull. “We’re both keeping our families happy. Do not dare get in the way of that because of some whimsical—”

“I think that’s quite enough.”

Harry’s head snapped around to look at the where Draco stood at the top of the carpeted staircase on the opposite side of the room.

“Sorry, enough of what?” Looking back and forth between the two of them, he felt himself frowning as his eyes widened. “Why would I get in the way of that?”

Astoria laughed softly before murmuring, too low for Draco’s ears. “Oh, you really are as oblivious as he says.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing! Why is she so concerned about me ruining your marriage?”

Draco sighed, leaning against the marble bannister. “Might as well bloody spell it out for you." He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’m gay, Harry.”

“Why does that—”

“Astoria _wrongly_ assumed that you were… similarly inclined.”

Harry felt himself blinking rapidly a few times, the words not quite making sense. “But why would that ruin your marriage? Even if I was… er, similarly inclined, for it to ruin _your_ marriage would have to mean that you…”

Oh. _Oh._ It all clicked into place then, the weekend prior, the comments that had come over the years and even some of the— _no_. He couldn’t think about the feelings right now, for fear he’d never come out of his spiralling thoughts.

Descending the staircase now, Draco’s voice was strong yet gentle, something in his eyes Harry couldn’t quite place. Had it been anyone else, he would have called it pity.“We’re going to France, Harry. Marry your fiancée. You love her, anyone can see that much.”

“I will, but…” Casting aside the torrential flood of thoughts as best he could, Harry drew his attention back to the situation at hand. “What about you? What about marrying someone you love?”

“Forget about this,” Draco began, waving off Harry’s protest before it had even left his lips. “Forget about your Saviour complex for once in your bloody life and let me marry someone who yes, I may never love in the same way as what you have, but I still love all the same.”

Draco had reached the bottom of the staircase now and Harry drank him in, from the loose blonde strands that framed his face to the pale, slender feet that rested atop the carpet. He wore a loose linen shirt, the top three buttons undone to expose his chest, with plain joggers covering his legs.

Coming back to meet Draco’s steely gaze, Harry felt himself heating up once more as he thought of this man—his friend, he corrected—in a loveless marriage. “How does that even work?”

There was a soft smile on Draco’s face as he began his reply. “Think of the love you have for Weasley—not Ginevra, the other one—and Granger. It might not be quite the same; we hardly fought a Dark Lord together. Still, we’re in this marriage for the same mutually beneficial reasons and are fond enough of one another to make it work. Our child will want for nothing.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know. Have a kid together, sure, but marry whoever you want anyway?”

They both laughed at that, something Harry didn’t understand passing between their gazes.

“It would hardly be proper, Harry.” Astoria’s voice was soft, her gentle smile seeming almost genuine now. “Though I daresay Draco’s parents already know of his preferences.”

“Then why—”

“Stop asking, please.” Draco shook his head, brow furrowed. “Just… I can’t marry for love.”

Harry felt himself reflecting Draco’s annoyed expression. “Is this some pureblood thing? Or do you genuinely not care about love? I don’t understand.”

“Not quite. He can’t marry for love because the person he’s in love with is already getting married.” Winking at Harry, Astoria smirked. “Congratulations, by the way. April is a lovely month for it.”

In a rare bout of emotion that Harry hadn't seen for years, Draco began pacing, hands tearing through his hair. “I am not in love with—that’s not what this is! I just… Fuck,” he added as he swivelled to face them both. “I’m sorry.”

“Harry, dear. Do you happen to know a synonym for “in love” that might make it easier for Draco to admit his feelings?”

The aggravated noise Draco made across from them was loud and exasperated; clearly this was something they’d spoken on a lot together. Astoria laughed gently, sharing a knowing look with Harry and sidestepping him to exit through the doors near the fireplace.

“I’ll let you finish this chat without me, darling.”

“How charitable,” Draco muttered.

“I’d like to remind you that we’re seeing my parents tonight, and I’d much rather you not outright hate me across the dinner table. Lovely to meet you Harry, please don’t keep him too long. We’ve reservations at 6pm.”

With that she was gone, leaving Harry and Draco alone and though they were half a room apart, Harry felt as if the space between them was rapidly narrowing.

“Draco, I—”

“I think you should leave.”

Taken aback, Harry frowned. “You what?”

“You heard me.” Draco sighed, meeting his gaze for a quick moment before turning to walk away. “I’m leaving for France tomorrow. We’re both getting married in the new year. There’s nothing more to say.”

“The bloody hell there isn’t!”

“Please.” It was the raw emotion behind that cracked syllable that had Harry pausing in his tirade, waiting expectantly for more. “I can’t do this. Being friends was never a good idea.”

As he watched Draco making his way back to the stairs, Harry scrambled for something to say but came up blank. “Draco…”

The hesitation in his step was so imperceptible Harry wondered if he’d imagined it. “I can’t stay. Cillor will show you out if you’d prefer not to floo.”

“I…”

He trailed off as Draco reached the top of the staircase and left his sights without so much as a backward glance. It was only that broken syllable playing on repeat that kept Harry from chasing after him, demanding answers. Needing something, anything. _So much for understanding_ , Harry thought. _Now I’m more confused than ever._


	6. 2003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149840786915328/24_cracker.jpg)
> 
> brief mention of festive drinks

_December 2003_

Hermione was the one to point out that perhaps they had overstayed their welcome when Teddy started to drool on her lap. They’d all lost track of time, of course; Christmas morning at Andromeda’s was only supposed to be a short stopover before they made it to the Burrow for lunch but after the week they’d all had it seemed to be just the reprieve they needed, with many exciting announcements being shared. Even Andromeda had gotten in on the celebratory eggnog as Ron passed it around, all the while looking thankful that Teddy seemed more interested in climbing all over the houseguests than being entertained by her.

After exchanging hugs and well wishes they began gathering their belongings to leave, Ron and Hermione opting to floo straight to the Burrow while Harry and Ginny decided they would make a quick stop at home first to drop off gifts they’d received and collect the few they’d forgotten to bring that morning. Teddy was barely keeping his eyes open as Andromeda lifted him over her shoulder, waving goodbye to the departing couple by the fireplace.

Harry was in the kitchen clearing up the last of their glasses when he heard the familiar voice speaking in muted tones in the lounge. Ginny’s quick reflexes were the only thing that had her wand out fast enough to slow the glass that slipped from his hand, leaving enough time for her to catch it after crossing the room from where she’d waited in the doorway.

“Harry,” she said in a low tone, placing the glass on the counter in front of him. “Will you be okay walking past him?”

He didn’t reply, ears straining to make out the words he wasn’t quite close enough to hear.

_“…if I’d known, I would have owled…”_

There was a sigh as he vaguely registered Ginny gathering the last of the dishes in front him. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me how to, you know.”

_“…looks like someone’s had a big morning…”_

Andromeda’s laughter sung out from the lounge, making Harry wish he could hear more of what was being said.

_“…did you want me to put him down for you? I don’t…”_

“Harry.” Ginny clicked her fingers in front of his face, incredulous stare on her face. “Do I have to march you out of the house myself?”

“Er, no.” Meeting her eyes, he gave her an apologetic smile as she rolled her eyes in response. “Sorry, Gin.”

“Did you want to…?”

“Merlin, no.” Harry shook his head perhaps a little too quickly at that, but if Ginny noticed she chose not to mention it. “Home now?”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “If you’re sure.”

They made their way back out of the kitchen, Harry pausing briefly in the doorway in an attempt to wave goodbye to Teddy and Andromeda. He realised the mistake as soon as he locked eyes with Draco and saw something akin to panic crossing the blonde’s face.

Turning to Ginny with a strained smile, Draco nodded by way of greeting. “Apologies. I didn’t intend to intrude on your Christmas.”

“Not at all. We were just leaving,” Ginny said as she grabbed Harry’s arm and gestured towards the front door with her head.

“Gin…” He shared a look with her, heart aching as he saw the concern in her eyes. “Give us a minute.”

Glancing back and forth between them both a few times, Ginny sighed gently before giving him a small nod. “I’ll see you at home?”

He pulled her in close and kissed her forehead, mumbling a _thank you_ before she took her leave. Turning back to where Draco stood by the fireplace, Harry noticed that Andromeda and Teddy had also left the room. If he strained his ears he could make out muffled voices through Teddy’s bedroom door and he sent a silent thanks to Andromeda for the privacy.

The only mention he’d seen of Draco that year was the word the papers brought. There hadn’t been much—not for lack of searching, he’d practically torn the _Prophet_ apart some mornings—but from what he could tell, most of his year had been spent living on the continent with his mother and fiancee. It was different seeing him printed in grainy black and white images to in the flesh now, all six foot something of the man he once thought he knew.

How much of that statement felt true anymore? They had been at each other’s throats far longer than they’d kept pleasant company. Maybe Harry had become too involved; not in the same way Draco apparently had, but in that he had pinned too much hope on redemption and turning a new page. Had he become taken with an idea, rather than with what he was actually being presented with?

“You really don’t have to stay.”

“I want to,” Harry countered, walking across the room until he was only a few short paces from where Draco stood. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yes, well. I didn’t plan to cross paths with you. I’m only here to see Andromeda and Teddy before we head to see Astoria’s family.”

Harry noticed the way Draco’s eyes wouldn’t meet his, the tone his voice took seeming so alike how it had the first time they’d crossed paths in Edington. It hurt. “How is Astoria?”

“As well as to be expected. Excited to be moving back to England in the Spring.”

“You’re coming back?” Cursing inwardly at the excitement that had creeped into his voice, Harry sighed. “I mean, that must be nice for her.”

“France was only ever temporary.”

“Are you happy to be back?”

Shifting awkwardly between his feet, Draco nodded slowly. “I am. It’ll be better for both of us, and our child.”

“Oh! Er, congratulations.”

Draco snorted, finally meeting Harry’s eyes as he shook his head. “Not yet. I mean one day in the future. They’ll attend Hogwarts, of course, and the Manor is a respectable place to grow up.”

“Right.” Harry let out a long exhale, steeling himself for what he hoped wouldn’t piss Draco off too much. “Listen, Draco. About last year, I—”

“Consider it forgotten.”

“Yeah, I—er, what?” Pausing, Harry frowned at the casual dismissal. “I wanted to apologise.”

Draco tilted his head, raising a brow in Harry’s direction. “What in Merlin’s name for? It’s behind us now. _All of it_ ,” he said, emphasising the last words.

Harry knew what this meant, of course. He should be happy, should be over the moon at the fact that what Astoria said was untrue and there was no more fear of Harry’s presence causing issues. Something didn’t sit right though, and he wondered if Draco was being entirely truthful.

“Okay,” he began cautiously. “Does this mean that—when you’re back in the country, of course—we can be, er, not-friends again?”

“You don’t have to dance around it, Harry. Friends is what you want. I think… Perhaps not. Not right now at least,” he amended, gaze dropping to the floor once more.

“What does that even mean, not right now?”

Draco sighed, running a hand through the loose strands of hair that framed his face. “I just… It’s inadvisable.”

“Is this about what Astoria said?” Harry gulped, seeing Draco’s shoulders flinch slightly at his words. “Because I don’t care—”

“I know you don’t.”

The unwelcoming tone Draco’s voice had taken on was harsh, causing Harry to wince and take an automatic step backwards. He took a deep breath, chewing on his lip as he watched Draco shake his head.

“Just… Forget any of that ever happened, alright? I suppose I can owl you or something. How’s that?”

It wasn’t much, but it was more than he had right now. “Yeah, thanks. I’d like that.”

Both their heads turned at the clearing throat that sounded. Andromeda stood leaning against the doorway, soft smile on her lips and crinkling lines beside her knowing eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping into the room and holding out a Christmas cracker to the two of them. “But I thought you might like to share one of these before Harry leaves for the Burrow.”

_The Burrow. Right._ Harry nodded at her with a grateful smile before turning back to look at Draco, seeing the blonde looking warily at the proffered cracker.

“I’m sure Harry doesn’t—”

“We’d love to, Andromeda. Thanks.” Ignoring the grumble to his right, Harry took it from Andromeda and took great pleasure upon noticing that it was embellished with red and gold. Offering it to Draco, he smiled smugly. “Scared, Malfoy?”

Rolling his eyes, Draco shook his head even as the hesitance was still plainly written across his face. “Ever the dramatist, Potter.”

The cracker steadied in Harry’s hand as Draco took the other end with a firm grip. Their eyes met and Harry caught the slight twitch of Draco’s mouth as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“On three?”

At Draco’s nod, he grinned. “Alright, one…two…”

They both pulled on three, the resulting firework crackling in the air around them in vibrant blue and green hues. It took Harry a moment to stop watching as the coloured cloud settled. When he dropped his head back to meet Draco’s gaze he found the other man looking down at the torn cardboard in his hand, brow furrowed. Confused, he followed suit and saw that the cracker had somehow ripped into equal halves.

Silence followed for a minute, before Andromeda’s voice cut through the room.

“That was certainly unexpected.”

After a moment, Draco cleared his throat. “Yes, well. If that will be all I daresay Harry has somewhere to be, wasn’t that right?”

“Er, yeah. I should probably get going.” He turned, catching the puzzled expression on Andromeda’s face as he did so. “Is this…What does this mean?”

“Nothing,” came the too-quick response from Draco.

He noticed that Andromeda took a moment to answer, her eyes looking to where Draco stood first. “They’re magical, Harry. Sometimes they work in mysterious ways.”

“But what does that—”

“Say hi to Molly and Arthur for me, dear.”

Hearing the finality in Andromeda’s words, Harry resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to be given an explanation and nodded. Walking to give her a final hug, he looked up over her shoulder as they embraced and saw Draco still looking at the cracker with a frown. After a moment the blonde looked up and caught his eye, the first genuine smile of the day crossing his features for a fraction of a second before being replaced by the rehearsed disinterest Harry knew so well.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Draco. Andromeda,” he said as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for today. Say bye to Teddy for me.”

Confused but light spirited he made his way down the hall, collecting his coat and gloves from the rack before stepping out into the frosty air. It seemed the Christmas spirit could melt even the coldest of hearts, he mused. Unable to make heads or tails of the situation but unsure how much he cared, he spent the short walk to his front door with a spring in his step and a smile on his face.


	7. 2004

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149416914616351/16_santa.jpg)
> 
> chapter mentions festive drinks

_December 2004_

Children seemed to be everywhere he looked today. Victoire and Dominique were fighting over toys in the corner, Teddy wouldn’t stop accosting unsuspecting adults as they exited the kitchen and Lucy was slowly dragging herself along the floor while Percy sat behind her picking up toys as she dropped them. He assumed Fleur had taken Louis home to nap when she left after lunch; Bill was keeping an eye on their other children and would be taking Teddy with them for the night when he finally departed.

Ginny was off changing James’ nappy, leaving Harry feeling slightly guilty as he tipped back another glass of Firewhiskey. He ran his fingers through Hermione’s hair where she lay with her head in his lap, feet up on the other arm of the couch.

“Do you ever wonder how Molly and Arthur coped? I love James, but I can’t imagine you raising seven of him.”

Taking in the chaos before them, Harry nodded. “I think my parents might have been on to something just having one.”

Hermione laughed before quickly covering her mouth. “Harry!”

“Relax, ‘Mione. It was a joke, you’re allowed to laugh.” Tipping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes as he let out a long exhale. “You’re right though. I love their big family, I really do, but I can’t imagine raising one that size on my own.”

“You’ve got Ginny.”

He felt the cold glass of another Firewhiskey nudging his hand and he gladly took it from her, enjoying the first cold sip. “Mmm. You know what I mean though.”

“You’re bloody lucky to have her, you know. How on earth that woman continues working while taking care of James and doesn’t drive herself mad worrying about you in the field all day—”

“I know, I know.”

There was a pause and he turned to look at Hermione fiddling with the glass in her hands. “You do love her right?”

“Of course I do. Why would you ask?”

“Something about seeing the way you look at her…it’s almost the way you look at Ron sometimes.”

“‘Mione, that’s gross!”

“No, not like that. I mean I know you love her, but do you…" A crease appeared in between her brows as she thought, sitting up slightly to sip on her wine. Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she spoke again. "Does it actually feel like more than just loving one of the Weasleys? Or me?”

Her words propelled him into a memory of a similar conversation years ago, making him pause for a moment before answering.

Maybe the type of love he had once so struggled to understand was actually the love he’d felt all along.

Maybe he was giving too much thought to the words of a man who paid him no mind at all.

Draco, who he hadn’t heard from since last Christmas despite him saying he would owl. Harry had considered sending the first letter when it became clear Draco wouldn’t write but as time passed he realised that perhaps some things were better put to rest. Whatever he’d seen in their friendship was clearly one sided, not worth pursuing enough for the other man to put quill to parchment. He hadn’t even seen Draco at the Ministry or in Diagon, and Harry wasn’t stupid enough to make the mistake of turning up at the Manor unannounced or even uninvited. He’d been able to ignore how hurt he was after Ginny had fallen pregnant, preparing their lives to welcome James and knowing his attention was better placed where it was both needed and appreciated.

Hermione looked at him as if she knew precisely what had just transpired in his thoughts. “Just… I don’t know. Do what you want, you’re an adult. But be gentle with Ginny, okay? I’ve never seen two people work so well together in a relationship and yet I’ve also never been so intrigued by what keeps it working. And I’m sorry if that’s too much, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. I’m observant, you know!”

Harry patted her head reassuringly, trying not to laugh as her voice raised with every passing word. “I know, ‘Mione. It’s why you do so well at work.”

“I suppose so. Maybe it’s just the Firewhiskey.”

“No, no. You say Ginny’s a super mum? What about you some day, when you're parenting and still managing to revolutionise laws and change the wizarding world? I can hardly see you giving that up when you decide to have kids.”

She tipped her head back further in his lap, sending a pointed look up at him. “Yes, well. Ron was smart enough to drop out of the Aurors so I can actually afford to continue doing good.”

“Hey!” Harry laughed, shaking his head as she sent an evil grin his way. “That was a low blow, ‘Mione.”

“Time to get out the Christmas crackers!”

Harry looked up from where he’d been directing a fond glare at Hermione when he heard Arthur’s excited announcement. Still wearing the Santa outfit he’d given out gifts in earlier, his face was alight with the something akin to the fascination of when he’d finally understood the mechanics of electricity. Spotting him and Hermione, Arthur waved with his spare hand and made a beeline for the couch they occupied.

“Harry, Hermione! You’ll appreciate these. I found them in a _Tesco_ up in Ottery St Mary, and they’re proper Muggle crackers.”

“Muggle?” Harry felt slightly crestfallen but tried not to let it show. “So these aren’t the crackers that set off fireworks?”

“Those fancy pureblood crackers? Gosh, I haven’t seen one of those in—how many years is it since we were engaged, Mol?”

“You should know that!” Came the answering shout from the kitchen.

Arthur laughed, shaking his head as he looked back to Harry. “Point being, it’s been many decades. I don’t even know if they exist anymore, to tell you the truth. Who’ve you been swapping stories with, hey?”

“Oh, but—er, right. Must have been someone at work who mentioned it.”

“Fascinating magic, aren’t they? Quite the spectacle.”

Harry nodded, cautious smile on his face. “I didn’t really understand what they did though. Are they supposed to mean something?”

Hermione was looking back and forth between the two of them and Harry pointedly avoided looking her way, knowing she likely remembered him asking her about them earlier this year. He’d given up any hope of understanding what transpired that day after he realised Draco wasn’t going to write anyway and it seemed like a dead end when Hermione hadn’t been able to find anything. If he’d realised they were a pureblood thing sooner… Well, Arthur Weasley still probably wasn’t the first person he’d have asked.

“You mean the colours?” At Harry’s hesitant nod, Arthur launched into explanation mode, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and frantic eye movements. “Well, they were charmed by one of the older wizarding families back when arranged marriages were common among all magic folk. Mol and I are among the last generation to have used them. The colours showed how good a partnership the witch and wizard would be, with red being a warning and green being the best match. If I remember correctly, it was charmed so that the witch would always get the larger side of the cracker when it broke.”

“What if it was two wizards?” Harry asked, seeing Arthur frown in response. “Or two witches,” he added hastily.

“Well, Harry, they never really arranged marriages that way. I’m not sure how that would work.”

“Right,” said Harry, trying not to pay attention to Hermione’s knowing look beside him. “And what if they don’t break? Or if they broke in perfect halves or something?”

Arthur’s grey flecked eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. “That’s almost unheard of, really. We always thought it was just a story parents made up to control marriages. That was a big thing back in the day, marrying for family alliances and intervening parents trying to determine the best partner for their kids.”

“Oh.” Harry was more confused than ever, unsure what this meant about last Christmas. “How would that even work?”

“Well, the story goes that if your cracker breaks normally—one person gets a side, the other person doesn’t—then the colour of the fireworks shows how successful the partnership will be. But then if there are fireworks and the cracker doesn’t break at all, it’s a cursed marriage. The fireworks for those are always dark, usually a black or red through them. Means someone’s going to die.”

“How odd.” Hermione’s tone next to him was curious and he could feel her eyes boring into the side of his skull. “And if it splits in perfect halves? What’s that story?”

“Well, I think it was about the colours again. Dark meant something bad—but these were all stories, mind you.” Arthur scratched at his head for a minute, lines in his forehead becoming more prominent as he thought. “If they were the other colours though, the blues, the yellows, the greens…It meant that they were a perfect match.”

Ron said something then, or maybe it was George; all Harry knew was that the world seemed to stand still around him. He was vaguely aware of being handed something, of Hermione’s voice in his ear, but all he could hear was Arthur’s final words echoing through his skull.

It was Hermione pulling the other end of the cracker he’d been handed that snapped him out of his reminiscing on Draco’s fleeting smile last Christmas. He mouthed a _thank you_ as she shook her head knowingly, pulling the paper crown out of her end and placing it firmly on his head.

She kept her voice low, casting her eyes around for eavesdroppers before she spoke. “You heard Arthur, it’s just a story.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

She arched a brow but said nothing, looking behind Harry’s shoulder and then back to him. “I’m not stupid, Harry.”

“I never thought you—”

“I know why you asked me about it. I knew as soon as you asked, and I know what you’re thinking about now.”

“Er…” Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. She was too perceptive for her own good, that much was certain, but she didn’t seem angry or even surprised. “You do?”

"Haven't you had enough of prophecies for one lifetime? Of doing things because some stupid magical object said that's what would happen?"

Harry swallowed nervously, words of decades ago ringing in his ears and glass smashing in his minds eye. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

Smiling gently, Hermione nodded. “I’m not telling you to decide anything today. In fact, please don’t decide anything today. You’re horrible for making rash decisions. Just think about what I said earlier, and remember that Arthur was just telling stories, okay?"

“Stories, yeah.”

Pulling him in for a hug, Hermione rubbed his back as she whispered in his ear. “I’ll love you no matter what. You know that right?”

Harry smiled into her hair, blaming the Firewhiskey for how emotional he was feeling. “Thanks, ‘Mione. Love you too.”

They held each other for a moment longer before separating as Ginny spoke to Harry’s left.

“Sorry, James is just finally getting sleepy. Do you mind if we go home so I can put him to bed?”

“Of course,” Harry said as he turned to see James half asleep in her arms. Overwhelmed with emotion, he beamed at her and wiped his eyes before he let any tears fall. “I’ll grab the bags and meet you by the fire.”

Sharing a grateful look with Hermione, Harry patted her gently on the shoulder before leaving to make the rounds and saying goodbye to the rest of the Weasley clan. Retrieving their things from where they’d ended up, Harry helped his wife and child through the floo and stepped through to their home waiting on the other side.

“I’m going to put him down and then I might go nap myself, if that’s alright. It’s been a long few weeks,” Ginny said with a yawn.

Harry put his arms out expectantly. “Here, I’ll take him.”

“You sure?” Ginny asked even as she passed their sleeping child to him.

“He’s already asleep, there’s not much I can mess up right?”

Giving him a weary smile, Ginny nodded and turned towards the bedroom door. “Thanks. I just need a few hours.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ll listen out for him until you get up.”

She closed the door behind her and Harry looked down at James in his arms. He’d already grown so much in the four months since they brought him home and though he was definitely sleeping better these days, Harry still didn’t envy Ginny the time she spent settling him while Harry was at work through the weeks.

Once James was tucked into the crib and Harry had cast the necessary observation spells on his room he ducked out into the kitchen, intending to make a cup of tea and maybe curl up with the most recent _Weekend Quibbler_ while he had some peace and quiet. As the kettle boiled, he looked out the window at Edington and felt a warm sense of _home_ inside him. He was almost able to put all of the day’s wondering behind him, almost able to pack all of the confronting thoughts of today into a box for a later date. Then he noticed a small red fleck getting closer to his windows and realised just as the poor bird was about to collide with them what he was actually seeing in time to open the one nearest him.

“Hestia! I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again.”

Careful not to wake anyone as he searched the creaking kitchen cupboards for owl treats, he gave the excited bundle of feathers something to quieten her down and watched her do a lap of the kitchen before catapulting herself back into the cold air. Shaking his head with a fond smile, he closed the window and looked down at the scroll she had left by the sink.

He felt nervous upon realising that if it had been delivered by Hestia, Draco must be nearby. With shaky hands he picked it up and unravelled it, hardly daring to breathe until he laid eyes on the familiar handwriting.

_Harry,_

_Andromeda mentioned you ought to be home by now, so I hope that is the case — Hestia tends to give up if she has to fly too far. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and all the best for the New Year._

_My apologies for not writing sooner. I thought it best to maintain some distance. I hope you can respect that._

_Astoria sends her best wishes, and says to let your wife know that she loved her piece in the sports pages last week. She always was quite the Harpies fan though, so I fear this is just her adoration following Ginevra in all endeavours._

_Don’t bother coming around — Andromeda says she needs a rest after the morning with loud children, which I’m sure you can attest to, and we’ll be gone by the time Hestia makes it back. She didn’t much like the floo but seems to have deemed it worthwhile to follow me for the afternoon. Andromeda seems quite smitten._

_We’ll be in France over the holidays but I shall write you upon our return._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Draco_


	8. 2005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ron's sweater inspired by [this hilarious prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148894673567784/7_jingle-my-bells-1.jpg)
> 
> chapter mentions alcohol

_December 2005_

They were well and truly most of the way through the bottle of Ogden’s finest when Ron mentioned the notice in the Prophet that morning.

It was the week before Christmas and both of their wives were out getting pampered—pregnancy packages, whatever they entailed—so he had taken up residence in the London apartment Ron and Hermione shared. They hadn’t had much time together outside of family lunches and occasional pub nights with friends so they’d spent the morning having a proper laugh like they used to before cracking open the Ogden’s.

They were sprawled across the floor at this point, leaning their backs against the couch. Harry had shrugged off his coat and jumper as the alcohol had started to warm him up a bit. Ron was flushed, unable to remove the horrendous sweater that George had forced onto him; they’d had a bet going at the shop all year and having lost, the Jingle My Bells innuendo was a permanent fixture across Ron’s for at least the next 32 hours. It had been funny when Harry first spotted it but now Ron wouldn’t stop complaining about how itchy it was getting, leaving him hoping that Hermione would know a spell to at least alleviate the discomfort.

Maybe it served him right for making fun of Ron’s irritation, maybe the universe simply wanted to rub some salt in his wounds. Either way, Harry had definitely not been expecting Ron of all people to ask him if he’d heard from Malfoy lately. Furthermore, when he said no he hadn’t anticipated to then be handed the Prophet and told to flip to page five.

There it was, clear as day. An announcement that a Malfoy heir had been born, healthy young boy by the name of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Harry’s vision went a bit hazy and he couldn’t make himself read past the first sentence, giving up after the fourth attempt.

“You alright, mate?”

He nodded, plastering a smile on his face and shrugging. “Here’s hoping the little Malfoy’s not as much of a prat as his father.”

The rest of their time together was overshadowed by the news; Harry knew Ron was trying to lift his mood and though he hoped he didn’t seem too consumed by his own thoughts he suspected his lack of focus was obvious. After a few more glasses he had bid Ron adieu, flooing home and immediately dropping into his favourite chair by the fire. This was hardly unexpected; Draco had sent news of Astoria’s pregnancy in his final letter earlier this year. It had just shocked him to find out about it secondhand through an article. He’d hoped to at least hear some word from Draco about it, not have his best mate clue him in and then send him concerned looks for the following hour.

Draco was probably busy. Childbirth was messy, the days that followed were exhausting and it didn’t leave much time for writing people. Merlin, he’d probably had someone else write up and organise the publishing of the _Daily Prophet_ article for them. Maybe Harry ought to write and see how he was coping. At the very least, it was appropriate to send congratulations when a child was born. He and Ginny had received more letters than they’d known what to do with when James’ birth had been announced and though he hoped otherwise, Harry assumed it would be the same when they welcomed their next child. Nodding to himself while he made his way to the desk in their bedroom, Harry talked himself out of finding a gift to go with the letter and opened the bottom left drawer as he took a seat.

Intending to find something to write on, Harry was instead greeted by the stack of letters that he _definitely didn’t read regularly_ ; Draco’s latest letter atop the pile was dated 24 May asking him not to owl again. He’d been much more forthcoming with frequent correspondence before Astoria had fallen pregnant, neither denying nor confirming what Artur had said last Christmas but at the very least not immediately shutting Harry down after he’d mentioned it.

Was it weird that he kept all of the letters he had received from Draco? Harry told himself it was perfectly normal to hold onto correspondence; he kept all of Ginny’s letters! Maybe that was a poor comparison. Reassuring himself as he remembered that he kept all of Ron’s letters, and the ones from Hermione — well, except for the unimportant ones. What even constituted unimportant? His other friends simply sent far too many for him to keep them all whereas he and Draco only owled when it was of great importance.

Shaking his head at the barrage of thoughts that threatened to drive him insane, Harry grabbed parchment from the drawer and a self inking quill from atop the desk and began to scrawl a quick congratulatory note.

_Draco,_

_Congratulations! Saw the Prophet. Hope Astoria and Scorpius are both happy and healthy._

_Harry_

That was innocent enough, wasn’t it? A simple congratulations from a friend. Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry called for Apollo to deliver the letter and watched the owl fly off until he was no more than a speck on the dimly lit horizon. Then he sat in the armchair by the fire and waited, talking himself out of rereading the _Prophet_ announcement or worse, the box of letters he’d been stupid enough to keep. The sky grew dark outside as he stared into the flames, head stuck on an endless loop of _what am I doing with my life?_ After what felt like an eternity there was a tapping at the window and Harry jumped to his feet so fast he felt something tighten in his back, opting to ignore the pain in favour of letting the owl back inside.

With a heavy heart he saw that Apollo had returned without an answering letter and Harry sighed, fishing in the cupboards for a treat and scratching the tawny feathers atop his owl’s head. It had been fruitless to get his hopes up after all this time. He was a grown man with one child sleeping in the other room and another on the way in a few short months. Draco had made his stance on any communication very clear and he should have respected that instead of taking the other man’s child as an opportunity to reach out.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Harry ran a hand through his hair as he cursed the day he’d decided to stand up for Draco in Eeylops and every single day since then that he’d allowed himself to think that maybe they could put the past behind them. Never mind the fact that it wasn’t the past that seemed to be their problem anymore; it was easier to dwell on old mistakes than it was to contemplate a future that he couldn’t have. Loathe as he was to admit it, Harry knew Draco was protecting himself and both of their best interests by keeping his distance, but knowing that only angered him further.

He was still pacing like a caged animal when Ginny came through the front door some time later. Plastering what he hoped was a calm expression on his face he walked to the hallway to greet her and was met by her expectant gaze.

“Don’t try and act like you haven’t just paced a hole in our kitchen floor, Harry.”

Having the decency to look sheepish at being called out, Harry grimaced. “Why the kitchen?”

“You do your best pacing there,” she said as she shrugged out of her coat. “That, and I saw the light from the street.”

Laughing, Harry stepped forward and embraced her in a hug. “You’re far too observant, Gin.”

“One of us has to be,” she mumbled into the front of his sweater. “Merlin knows it isn’t you. Wanna talk about it?”

Harry pressed a kiss to her hair before stepping back. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Great. It’s been at least a month since your last Malfoy rant,” she teased as she pressed past him and made her way down the corridor. “Mind making me some tea and coming to chat in bed? My back’s killing me.”


	9. 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148664347951114/1_upside_down_mugs.jpg)
> 
> chapter contains mentions of alcohol & the war/grieving (nothing too heavy!)

_December 2006_

The wind chill had Harry pulling his scarf up over his face and wishing he’d left his Auror robes on for an extra layer of warmth, attention they garnered be damned; even with the jumper and coat he was wearing he could feel the essence of winter deep in his bones. Weaving his way through the hurried crowds Harry once again wondered why he continually scheduled his Christmas shopping for lunch breaks despite knowing that the crowds were an absolute nightmare.

There wasn’t much left to get today, a small mercy for which he was thankful. He’d managed to pick up most of the presents ahead of time for once—entirely accidental on his part—in some of the wizarding stores Hermione had shown him in Bristol last weekend. Today's mission was simple: Ginny had mentioned some of the new flying gear stocked by Quality Quidditch Supplies and he was considering stopping in at Eeylops while he was here to see how much work a kneazle would be. James had met the neighbour’s cat and fallen in love at first sight.

First stop on the agenda was the new cafe that had taken residence in Fortescue’s old parlour space; though his heart panged at the memories, the other Aurors wouldn’t shut up about how great it was and a few were known to duck down on lunch breaks and bring back coffee for the office. Harry had been out in the field every time this had happened, so he figured he ought to take the opportunity while he was here.

Stepping inside _Cauldron Cafe_ , Harry took a second to appreciate the holiday decor. There was a miniature Christmas tree on the front counter and strings of multicoloured lights hung from the walls, giving it a festive feel. His feet found their way to the back of the short queue as he smiled to himself while watching the people at each table going about their days. Busy taking in the atmosphere, it wasn’t until he heard the familiar voice ordering in front of him that he snapped out of his people watching and his head turned to the unmistakable white blonde hair just above his natural line of sight.

“Draco?”

Faltering mid-sentence, the man’s shoulders froze before his head slowly turned to meet Harry’s gaze. There was a desperate look to his eyes, one Harry knew too well; he often saw it on the people he apprehended in the field as they realised there was no escape.

Trying not to draw too many parallels, Harry gave a tentative smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Draco shook his head quickly, eyes blinking a few times. “I, um. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yes, well the office keeps talking about how good this place is and I thought I should try it myself. What are you doing here?”

There was the sound of a throat clearing and they both looked at the cashier’s expectant face. “Were you still wanting to order? It’s just, we’re busy and—”

“Of course. I should really get going anyway.”

“Have a coffee with me?” Harry blurted, panic setting in as he saw both faces look at him in varying states of confusion. “I mean, er. Surely you’ve time to stay for a quick coffee? For old time’s sake?”

Looking between Harry and the cashier for a long moment, Draco sighed before turning to face the counter again. “One black coffee, and whatever ridiculous Christmas cocoa drink special you’ve got for this idiot.”

Face breaking out in a grin, Harry ignored the snide remark he heard muttered under Draco’s breath and instead focused on seeking out a table for them. Finding one by the glass storefront he made a beeline over and sat with his back to the street, watching Draco make his way to the unoccupied seat when he finished paying.

After a few moments of meeting Draco’s eyes and hurriedly looking away at what he found there, Harry cleared his throat. “Er, what are you doing in Diagon?”

“We’re getting Scorpius a crup for his birthday. I’ll be heading to Eeylops next.”

Harry perked up, realising they had the same destination. “Oh! I was going to look at kneazles for James.”

“Hmm.” Draco tilted his head, a puzzled look on his face. “You’re more of a kneazle person than a crup person then, I take it?”

Harry shrugged, unsure of how he felt on the matter. “Honestly, I’m not fussed either way. I’ve never had a pet that wasn’t an owl.”

They both paused as a waitress placed their steaming beverages before them. Harry grinned as he saw that the mugs matched the festive decor, looking like hollowed out upside-down Santas with handles attached to their sides. Rolling his eyes, Draco thanked the waitress before looking back at Harry.

“So why a kneazle?”

“James has fallen in love with our neighbour’s cat,” he said as he picked up the cocoa topped with an excessive number of marshmallows. “I’m scared he will steal it if I don’t intervene.”

Draco laughed, a knowing look on his face. “Who are you to deny the child?”

“Sounds like Scorpius has you wrapped around his finger already.”

“Not as much as he does Astoria. She spoils him rotten.”

“Sounds like another Malfoy child I once knew,” Harry teased. “He’ll be same year at Hogwarts as Albus, actually.”

Snorting, Draco looked up at Harry from behind his mug. “Still can’t believe you named him Albus Severus. They’d be rolling in their graves if they knew.”

“Hey!” Harry shouted, drawing strange looks from some of the people in line. Dropping his voice, he instead opted to glare across the table. “I take offence to that. Dumbledore would have loved it.”

“And Severus would have hated it. How does Ginevra feel about the name?”

“Er… I mean, she didn’t complain when I chose it?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “She must love it then.” There was a pause as he took a sip of the coffee before placing it on the table, eyes downcast at his hands. “How are you and Ginevra anyway?”

Harry heard the overly nonchalant tone his voice took, saw the tells he wouldn’t have noticed a few years earlier. It filled him with hope but also scared him to death. “We’re good… I think.”

“Oh?” A hint of interest had crept into Draco’s voice, eyes still not daring to look up.

“Honestly, I’m not sure if we’re good at this marriage thing. Hermione keeps saying she thinks we’re too good at it, would you believe?”

“Her and the rest of the world,” Draco muttered bitterly. Looking up, he cleared his throat before speaking. “You’re the golden couple. Everyone loves you. Of course you’re good at marriage.”

“That’s the problem though. I mean, I don’t know. Some days I wonder if we jumped in too quick.”

There was a slight tremble to Draco’s hands as he lifted his coffee for another sip. “What else would you have done?”

“I’m not sure. I just don’t know if this is what we both had in mind. I’m happy, I do love her, I just… Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“You can stop if you’d like.” Draco shrugged, looking down. “Or you could continue rambling. I don’t mind.”

Laughing, Harry took a drink of the cocoa and was pleased to find that it tasted just as Christmassy as he could have hoped for. With the taste of cinnamon on his tongue, he took a steeling breath before throwing caution to the wind and casting a quick _muffliato_. “It just all seems… Like a different love than what I imagined. Remember how you described loving Astoria? That Christmas when I—”

“I remember the one.”

Having the decency to shoot Draco an apologetic look, Harry continued. “It feels a bit like that some days. I know that I love Ginny, but I also love Hermione, and Ron, and Luna, and—”

“Yes, I get your point.” Draco placed his mug back on the table, leaning forward on his elbows. “So you’ve realised it’s not what you had in mind. What’s the problem? It’s not so bad, is it?”

Sighing, Harry leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose not. It’s just not what I thought I would have.”

“What does she think about it?”

“We haven’t really talked about it, honestly. Sometimes I see her looking at me though, like she knows. Like she feels the same way even. Is that horrible?”

“Harry…” Draco hesitated before shaking his head and sighing. “It’s your marriage. Who am I to tell you what’s horrible? Ask your wife if you really want to know.”

With a bitter laugh Harry leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, aware of how close this brought him to Draco. “How do I even bring that up though? Hey, Gin. How was your day? I saw Draco. Wondered if we’re actually in love.”

Reclining abruptly, Draco grimaced. “You can’t… Why are you even telling me this? We can’t do this. We can’t talk if you’re going through this with your wife.”

“What, friends can’t help each other through rough times?”

Draco met Harry’s eyes with a defiant resolve. “This is different and you know it.”

Harry swallowed nervously. “Maybe that’s why you should help me figure this out.”

“No.” His tone was blunt, leaving no room for discussion. “That’s not fair on her, or either of us.”

Harry’s head came down to rest in his hands, a heavy sigh blowing his napkin across the table. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a moment before he heard Draco sigh in response, the telltale sound of metal chair legs scraping on the floor as he stood. “Go home to Ginevra, Harry. I don’t mean to sound terribly rude but I cannot talk to you if you’re trying to figure out your marriage. It feels inappropriate for both of us and I…I don’t want to be responsible for breaking apart the golden couple.”

“I wish you would stop calling us that,” Harry said as he raised his head to look at Draco standing across the table. “Besides, it’s not your fault if I choose to leave her. It doesn’t even matter if it’s because of you—”

“Harry.” Draco cast a look around them, letting out a shaky exhale. “Please. It’s not just you who’s married.”

“But you and Astoria aren’t, y’know.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth.

Draco's fists balled by his sides. “I am well aware of the specifics of my marriage. That’s my situation and I choose to stay with her. Scorpius will be raised by two loving parents and it would do you well to think of your own children.”

“But what if—”

“Harry, for Merlin’s sake.” Draco raised his hands, exasperated. “You are out of line. Do not tell me how to raise my son or what to do about my marriage.”

Shaking his head as he looked away from Draco’s angry stare, Harry sighed. “So you don’t want this?”

“This? Are you bloody—Harry, there is no this.” Draco sat back down to lean across the table and whispered his outrage. “There is no this, you understand? You’re having your midlife crisis two decades too early and I’m not about to ruin my life just because you’re determined to ruin yours. You’re, what, basing this off a comment that my wife made many years ago when we were both very different people.”

Heart in his throat, Harry nodded slowly. He had misunderstood, too many years too late. “You’re not interested in me.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“So you are?” Harry looked back towards where Draco sat, confused by what to believe.

Standing again, Draco tipped back the dregs of his coffee and shook his head. “Go home, Harry. Please don’t contact me again unless you genuinely figure things out with Ginevra and are able to respect my marriage equally.”

With that he made to leave the cafe, stopping as Harry’s fingers closed around his wrist.

“Draco…” He looked up, meeting eyes that looked every colour of scared under the sun. Dropping his grip, Harry sighed. “I—I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Harry didn’t let himself watch Draco walk away, directing all of his attention towards finishing the drink before him even as the taste was bittered by the conversation he’d never expected to have.

After a few minutes of staring aimlessly at the table he realised that there wasn’t much point to going back to the office in his state. He needed to clear his head. No, what he really needed was to sit down with Ginny, like he should have many years ago.

His intention had been to come home and pretend that everything was alright while he figured out how to broach the subject. He had forgotten to factor in how perceptive Ginny was; he only took a few steps through the door before she sighed, ushering him through to the kitchen with a finger pressed to her lips to stay silent.

It wasn’t anything new to her, which hurt him more than anything. Maybe she hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming about it but apparently he wasn’t the only one who had been giving their marriage a lot of thought in recent years. There was no shouting, just a resigned understanding and for that he was grateful. There even seemed to be an undertone of relief, both of them finally having all their cards on the table. No more dancing around the topic.

After a while he realised just how much Ginny had always been able to see through him; he mentioned coffee with Draco and a knowing look crossed her face as she listened to him explain, falling over himself in apologies for not seeing it for what it was sooner.

“Harry,” she sighed. “You love him. Anyone can see it, and while I appreciate you trying to be delicate—”

He froze. _Love?_ This wasn’t love. “Gin… No. I love you.”

A sad smile crossed her lips, breaking Harry’s heart all over again. “I know you love me, but you’re _in love_ with him.”

“Why does the way you emphasise those words make it sound like so much more than it is?”

“Spending a decade in denial will do that to you.” Laughing, she shook her head at him fondly. “Probably longer if we’re being perfectly honest.”

“You can’t really think—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Harry. Stop getting so riled up. You’re terrible at keeping secrets anyway.” She waved off his protests, rolling her eyes. “You both just had a knack of gravitating towards on another, you know? Like you had your own personal orbit.” With a sad smile, she looked down at the floor. “It was different for us.”

“Are you saying… You think this wasn’t real?”

“Don’t be stupid. I know you loved me every bit as I loved you, and we will always have this. I just also see that Malfoy has held your interest for far longer than you’re willing to admit, in ways you probably overlooked back then.”

He frowned, hating the way he could so easily agree with her words now. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“Harry…” She paused, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “We lived through a war. A fucking horrible war that scarred us both. And like it or not, that’s made it even more necessary for Malfoy to get married and do what his parents want. I think—I think it’s even part of why we stayed together.”

“What do you mean?”

Shaking her head, Ginny looked up at him from beneath glistening lashes. “We both lost a lot. You wanted a family, and I… Right now, I think I need a drink.” Turning to pick up her wand from where she’d left it beside the sink, Ginny summoned two glasses and looked back over her shoulder at Harry. “Do we still have the brandy?”

He nodded, then flinch as he heard a crash from presumably the liquor cabinet in the other room. Stepping out of the way to watch an unopened bottle fly to Ginny’s expectant hand, Harry gave a hollow chuckle.

“Cracking open the fancy wedding gifts?”

The answering glare he got was enough to have him keeping a cautious eye on Ginny’s wand hand as he grimaced, mouthing an apology as he watched her uncork it and pour without taking her eyes away from his. She was an impressive woman, fierce and unapologetically true to herself in all that she did. His heart ached for her right now, no matter how much she insisted they were equals in their decisions. Of the two of them, he was the oblivious idiot and an absolute prick for this.

Ginny crossed the room to hand him the first of the drinks before taking a seat at the table, slumping back against the wooden chair and downing half of her brandy in one.

“Oh Merlin, that’s disgusting.” She placed the glass in front of her, turning her eyes back on Harry once more. “Okay, so. I guess you already felt like part of my family and we didn’t question if it needed to be more than that. I don’t know. I’m not saying we did something we shouldn’t have done, or that any of it wasn’t real. Does that make sense?”

It did, and that was the problem. Her words were eerily similar to what he’d said to Draco earlier, but hearing it from Ginny made it all the more real for him. It was a lot for his head to take in, and he regarded his wife across the table as he took a sip and spluttered. It tasted like what he imagined muggle petroleum would taste like.

“Er, yeah. I guess it kinda does make sense.”

She snorted, shaking her head as she looked at the table between them. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it would. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I guess I just… I don’t know. I hoped I was wrong.”

Harry gulped nervously, hating the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes now. He had done this to them. “What do you want to—what should we do?”

“Honestly?” Ginny sighed, tipping her head back to look at the ceiling. “I don’t want to make any big decisions before the holidays. You know mum will kick up a fuss, and it’s Albus’ first Christmas, and… These are all excuses, I know. What do you want to do, Harry?”

“I don’t know, Gin. I really don’t know.”

She looked him, pressing her lips together in a sad smile. “Malfoy’s probably not about to make any immediate decisions either.”

He dropped his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Gin. I really—”

“Harry. Stop pretending like you’re the only one who made a choice here. It’s not like I hadn’t started to suspect something and even if I hadn’t, I didn’t go into this marriage under coercion. You didn’t make me do it. We both made decisions, we’re both adults. I still love you, and… while your love might not be what we both hoped it would be for this marriage that doesn’t make what we’ve built any less real.”

“So you just…Want to stay like this?”

She laughed, a short bitter sound that

“I didn’t say that. I deserve more than a man in love with someone else—no, let me finish. I’m not about to let our children grow up unhappy, Harry. Part of that is showing them how love works, and I think we’re going to be better as friends when we figure all of this out. Stop that!”

Harry frowned. “Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like the world is ending and it’s all your fault. I’m a big girl. Also, you’re not allowed to hurt me and then make it all about you.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Merlin, Harry, shut up would you? I’m at least half joking,” she said, a sad breathy laugh escaping her lips. “And clearly of the two of us, I’m handling this better. You know what we’re going to do?”

“What?”

“I am going to finish this godawful drink,” Ginny said as she grabbed her glass from the table in front of her and finished its contents. “That was truly foul.”

“It was,” Harry said as he laughed at her scrunched up face. “What else are we going to do?”

“You’re also going to finish that, because it’s hardly fair that I’m the only one with protesting tastebuds in this family. Then we are both going to forget this conversation for a few weeks if only to get through Christmas without a Weasley family breakdown or worse, an intervention.” She shuddered, standing to take her glass to the sink. “I know you’re incapable of not thinking about Malfoy, so perhaps you can use the next few weeks to think about everything you’ve finally realised and then we’ll decide what to do once everyone’s done breathing down our necks. Think you can manage all of that?”

Grimacing as he plugged his nose and drank down the rest of the brandy, Harry considered Ginny’s logic. It felt like an easy out for now and he almost wanted to say _no, make me pay for what I’ve done._ Knowing that he was the reason Ginny was hurting, knowing that she had spent time dwelling on this and praying that she’d been wrong, well. It broke him to realise the damage he’d done — and there he was again, making this about him. As he placed the glass back on the table and coughed up the taste of acidic death, he saw that Ginny’s plan was the best way forward for both of them. It was what she needed and if he was going to feel any amount of okay with the situation he’d landed them in it would have to be through letting Ginny take the lead. Making any big decisions now wasn’t going to change how they felt, it would just give him a temporary feeling of penance that would drag out their family’s pain in the long run.

So he nodded, giving her a small smile as he agreed to wait until the new year: the first step in righting his wrongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am a big fan of ginny telling harry all the shit he's unwilling to admit to himself and being a supportive friend no matter what (can you tell?)


	10. 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149242428030986/12_gingerbread-cookies.jpg)
> 
> this chapter contains mentions of ginny/harry

_December 2007_

“Why am I making tea? I’m the one with a literal human growing inside me.”

Harry looked up from where he’d been reading at the kitchen table. “Would you like some assistance?”

“Bit late now,” Ginny muttered as she fussed about with the sugars. “It would just be nice in future if you could be more concerned for me.”

“Usually you just use your wand,” Harry pointed out. “I didn’t realise you’d be standing to make it.”

“Yes, well. I felt like doing something with my hands.”

Laughing at her indignant tone, Harry rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have had the chance if I’d made the tea.”

“Harry James Potter,” she began, in the voice that Harry knew meant he was about to get an earful, “if you would be kind enough to stop mocking me, I would like to point out that of the two of us I am the only pregnant one and furthermore, this is my third pregnancy. I would also like to point out that this is entirely your fault, so stop being a prick and let me complain nonsensically.”

“You can’t entirely blame me for—”

“I can so! It’s definitely not _my_ fault that you’re really sexy when you finally own up to being an asshole and start talking about your feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked a few times, unsure what to make of that. “Hmm. That’s definitely not what I thought started that. Thought it was just a bit too much wine and… I don’t know. Excitement that we decided to stop being married? Guess that doesn’t make much sense when I say it out loud.” He paused, looking up at Ginny’s amused face. “You really think me talking about my feelings is sexy?”

Turning back to the mugs in front of her, Ginny shrugged. “Don’t think on it too much, we’re getting divorced now.”

Lighthearted as he knew she meant to be, Harry could hear the bitter edge to her words. “I’m sorry, Gin.”

“One day you’ll have to stop apologising for a decision that we both made. Give me some credit, would you?”

He dropped it, knowing this was her way of coping. Turning back to the Auror’s manual he’d been trying to focus on for the better part of the past hour, Harry conceded defeat and summoned his latest case notes from the bedside table in their spare room. Opening the lavender coloured folder, Harry held back a sigh as he began reading the now familiar medical notes of the three most recent victims.

“Harry… What if we stayed like this?”

Looking up, Harry welcomed the distraction from his work until his brain caught up to his ears. Panic came over him, eyes widening as he spoke slowly. “I thought we agreed that a divorce was for the best.”

“I don’t want to get back together, you idiot.” She rolled her eyes and his shoulders dropped with a sigh of relief. “I just mean living together with the kids. I don’t plan to start seeing anyone else yet, I want to focus on raising our children and you have to admit that we work well together. As friends,” she added as Harry opened his mouth again. “What if we just co-parented as housemates for a while? Then neither of us has to try find a new place, and when it does finalise there will be less fallout in the papers if they see we’re amicable.”

Frowning, Harry shook his head. “Are you sure you want to pretend we’re still together? I mean, what if one of us does eventually want to start seeing someone?”

“Well I’m eight months pregnant, and I know you’re not about to start dating any time soon.”

“I mean, I might.”

Ginny sighed. “I’m not going to stop you. I just know that you’re only interested in one person and he’s determined to stay in his marriage and raise his son.”

Ah, yes. The eternal Draco-shaped dilemma. He groaned, cursing the man his mind couldn’t let go.

“So we agree it’s a good idea then?”

Running a hand through his hair, Harry let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, alright. It’s a good plan. I’m already set up in the spare room anyway.”

Nodding, Ginny turned to the boiled kettle and poured them each a cup of tea. Harry accepted his gratefully, placing the hot mug on the table and watching Ginny carefully sit across from him. Flicking her wand, she summoned the box of gingerbread men that Molly had sent home with her earlier in the week and offered one to Harry. He declined, laughing as he watched her shrug before dipping one in her tea and biting its head off.

They spent some time after that in silence, Harry hoping for a breakthrough on this case while Ginny perused the weekend headlines and decimated gingerbread cookies. When he was halfway through his cup of tea, Harry looked up to see Ginny watching him.

“What?”

“I just wondered…” She paused, biting her lip as she thought. “Have you heard from him?”

He didn’t have to ask who she was referring to. “No.”

“Are you going to reach out?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m going to stay away, like he asked.”

Shrugging, Ginny leaned back in her chair. “I mean, he told you to stay away until we figured things out, didn’t he?” At Harry’s confirming nod, she continued. “I’m not saying it would change anything. I’m not saying you should do anything. I just want you to know that if you’d been more upfront with yourself and everyone else about how you felt earlier on you would have lived a very different life.”

Harry shot her a bitter look. “You say that as if I should have known sooner.”

“Not at all. You weren’t in the place to look deeper when everything was happening and then the war fucked you up too much. I see that every single day. I know you still have nightmares.” She looked at him as if to deny it but he knew better, certain that some nights she heard his screams even through the strong silencing charms on his room. Nodding, she leaned forward to rest her hands on the table. “I know you struggle to think of doing anything other than your Auror job because you’ve always had to be responsible for fighting the bad guys. But maybe it’s time you let someone else do that. Maybe you deserve to be happy without winning everyone else’s battles, Harry.”

“I thought this was about Draco. Now you want me to quit my job?”

Sipping her tea, Ginny raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of her mug.

“You’re a confusing woman, Gin.”

She laughed, placing her mug back on the table. “Not really. You’re just a very confused man. Have you ever considered that Draco and your job are related?”

He shook his head. “I really don’t see how they are. Care to explain?”

“Alright. I’m only going to say this once, mind you.” She took a deep breath, fiery gaze staring into his soul. “You’re incredibly selfish and stubborn, Harry. I was the same. I stayed because it was the right thing to do, and I don’t regret it, but there is a world out there that we haven’t been part of. We settled down so quickly, we were so thankful to be alive after the war that we didn’t give ourselves much of a chance to live.” Pausing to look down at her stomach, Ginny smiled, voice low when she spoke again. “I know you still don’t think you deserve more than this. Merlin, you don’t even think you deserve this some days. I see the way you look at James and Albus. You’re living in the past, blaming yourself for all the loss and you don’t need to keep putting yourself through that.”

He could hear the truth in her words, made all the more powerful by how fervently she believed them. “So… You think I should quit my job.”

Laughing, Ginny shook her head as she met his eyes once more. “I think you should tell Draco how you feel. And yes, you should quit your stupid job. Let me go to work every day without feeling guilty for leaving the kids with mum.”

Harry slumped back against the chair, thinking it over. He couldn’t think of himself as anything but an Auror, truth be told. More than that he couldn’t see Draco turning around and leaving his family just because Harry was stupid enough to care about him.

“You don’t have to do it right now,” Ginny said softly. “But hopefully one day you’ll realise that you deserve to be happy, however that looks for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know ginny/harry isn't everyone's cup of tea (and this is definitely a drarry story!) but i am sticking to epilogue compliance so we've got ourselves a lily luna on the way. this will be the final ginny/harry relationship chapter though - i'm keeping her around though, i love supportive friend ginny! the epilogue did not do justice for what the two of them could have had as friends 😭


	11. 2008

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148745826631690/3_rainbow_tree.jpg)

_December 2008_

One of the benefits of being unemployed for almost six months was that Harry now had plenty of time to look after the kids. One of the drawbacks of being unemployed for almost six months was that Harry now had plenty of time to look after the kids.

Sharing a pained look with Hermione from where he sat in the armchair opposite hers, Harry shouted—in his inside voice, of course—at James to stop encouraging Rose while giving himself whiplash trying to spot where Albus had disappeared to. This was most Thursdays for the two of them: she took an early mark to give Ron a half day with George in the shop and brought Rose and Hugo over for a playdate. Their two youngest were down for a nap, thankfully, but they were rapidly discovering new reasons as to why it was called the Terrible Twos.

Once the children were behaving to at least an acceptable degree—“ _Albus, stop terrorising Slinky”—_ Harry turned back to Hermione and brought the conversation back to where they’d left off: _Witch Weekly_ ’s article speculating about who Harry’s new girlfriend could possibly be. Apparently an inside source had all the juicy details and it was all anyone could talk about. Leaving the house was something he let other people do these days, for fear of being perceived by anyone who believed this rubbish.

“This would all be solved if you just told the world you didn’t want a _girlfriend_.”

Harry sighed, wishing for the millionth time this week that the press would find something more interesting to think about. “I don’t think me telling them I like men is going to help.”

“So what? Who gives a rat’s arse if you’re gay. I sure don’t.”

He looked at her as if to say _you can’t be serious._ “ _Witch Weekly_ , for starters. And the _Prophet._ They’d have a bloody field day.”

“ _Prophet_ , shmophet. Load of rubbish, that’s what I say. I can see the headline now. _Chosen One Chooses Co—_ actually, that might be a bit too explicit for them. _The Gay Who Lived?_ ”

Harry began laughing so hard his stomach started to hurt as he sat listening to Hermione do her best at coming up with scandalous titles for the supposed expose they would run when they heard the news. They spiralled into crazier depths and he had to make sure to keep his volume down, lest the wake the babies with their self-indulgent idiocy.

“—and they’d have you on the front page in front of one of those rainbow flags. Wait, that’s a brilliant idea!”

Barely having the chance to blink before Hermione’s wand was out, Harry froze in shock for all of two seconds before doubling over in peals of laughter again. “Did you just…charm my…bloody tree…gay?” He was wheezing, not making a sound as air came silently into his laughing mouth between broken words. “What am I going to tell Ginny?”

Hermione snorted, flicking her wrist to add more tinsel to the tree in question. “Like she doesn’t know her ex-husband is more partial to men.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” he said cautiously. “Not sure I really prefer one to the other.”

“I see.” Raising her brows at him, Hermione smirked smugly. “But more partial to one particular man.”

Closing his eyes and setting his head back against the chair with perhaps slightly more force than usual, Harry sighed. “Maybe, but I’m working on it.”

“Working on it how? Like, you’ve owled him and told him that you want to see him…or you’ve ignored him completely and are pretending he doesn’t exist?”

“I’m not answering that,” he said even as he heard Hermione’s laughter in response. “He’s made it very clear where he stands.”

“Two years ago, if I’m not mistaken. Have you made any contact at all?”

"You sound like Ginny," he grumbled, eyes staying pressed firmly shut as he tried not to think on how much what he was about to say hurt to think about. “Even if he missed the divorce announcement… That was so long ago, ‘Mione. There’s no way he’s missed all the bloody rubbish since then. If he wanted to talk, he’s had plenty of chances.”

“Hmm.” She fell silent for a moment, the backdrop of childish chatter from across the room a familiar music to Harry’s ears as he waited. “Have you considered that perhaps… and I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but is there any chance you’re projecting your feelings onto him because you’re a bit bored? You never did like sitting around doing nothing. And trust me,” she said as she raised her voice slightly, “I’m not one to call raising children nothing. Mine are pains enough. But you always had a thing for following Malfoy around when you needed something to do.”

He sighed, opening his eyes finally to look at her questioning face. “Believe me, I wish this was that.”

"I suspected as much." She studied his face for a few moments, eyes crinkling at the corner at whatever she found there. “I’m starting to think you should just wait for him to owl then.”

“So you don’t think I should talk to him? I thought you just said—”

“You don’t have to do what I say.” With a pointed look, she shrugged at him. “Anyway, it’s not like you’ve ever listened to me where Malfoy’s concerned.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry shook his head. “This is a bit different, don’t you think?”

“I’m just saying that maybe you should figure out if you’re happy with how you’re living your life now. If you are, and you definitely seem to be lately… Well, it’s hardly a waste of time to keep doing what you’re doing and either waiting out whatever he’s working through, or seeing what direction your life takes without him.” She paused, biting her lip as she glanced over at their three children before looking back to where he sat, watching. “Unless you’re unhappy, in which case I don’t know what else to say.”

Looking around them and taking in the stupid rainbow tree, James whispering something in Rose’s ear while Albus stole a toy from the pile in front of her…Framed photos of their friends and family on the mantelpiece, a suspiciously Slinky-shaped lump under the throw blanket on the couch… The home they’d built as a family. The life he had made and the knowledge that no matter what happened outside of these walls, he always had this. He turned back to see Hermione smiling at him and he could see that she knew exactly what was going through his head.

Draco wasn’t the be all and end all of his existence. It was something he wanted to try, wanted to see if it could slot into the life he’d always dreamed of having. But he also knew that Draco was building his own life the way only he knew how. Maybe Harry hadn’t quite come to complete acceptance around knowing that he deserved to be happy—even when he wasn’t fighting everyone else’s battles—but he was close, and he wasn’t entirely certain that he could say the same for Draco. If the other man needed a stable family environment around him, who was he to deny him his penance in the guise of traditional family life?

“No. I think I’m managing quite fine without him. I just…” Trailing off, he saw the hint of pity come into Hermione’s eyes. “I didn’t actually think he would leave Astoria when we split, but a small part of me hoped he would at least want to talk.”

With a sad smile, Hermione reached across the gap between them to lay her hand on his forearm. “I know. You may not talk about it much, but you’re incredibly easy to read after all these years.”

“Maybe I’m just lonely. You could be on to something about this just being my stupid Malfoy obsession all over again. I am quite bored without the Aurors; there’s only so many times I can reread _Bibbity Boggart_ to James before I want to hex someone’s bollocks off.”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, sounding scandalised. “Careful, he’ll hear you and then you’ll have a lot of explaining to do when Ginny comes home tonight to hear James saying bollocks.”

He groaned, shooting a quick look across the room to see if the kids were paying attention. Absorbed in their own world as always, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Close call, but I think we’re in the clear.”

Shaking her head with a fond smile, Hermione paused for a moment before gently squeezing his forearm as she spoke. “Why don’t you try your hand at dating? If you’re really sure you don’t want to reach out.”

Harry snorted. “Maybe because it’s a bit depressing that I’m unemployed and divorced with three kids at the ripe old age of 28?”

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound too great.” Hermione laughed, leaning back in the armchair and looking at Harry as she did so. He loved Hermione’s laugh; for all the time they’d spent being idiots in school, he felt that she laughed more now. Leaving a war behind would do that to someone, he supposed. The sound was light and melodious, her face unguarded and carefree. Like she had grown into her laugh as she had grown into this version of herself. With a soft smile taking its place, she quirked a brow at him. “You don’t really think that’s depressing, do you?”

Thinking on just how much had changed for him since that fateful night at the kitchen table two years ago, Harry gave her an echoing smile of his own. “No, I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've got most of the remaining chapters outlined/partially written at minimum so looking to be on track for finishing up by the end of the month 🎄💚  
> more draco coming soon, i promise!


	12. 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149889126531112/25_christmas_towerbridge.jpg)
> 
> apologies if there's any inconsistency and typos through the next few chapters - i got my wisdom teeth out a few days ago and my final edits have been done from bed in a rather delirious state!

_September 1 2009_

It was a crisp Autumn morning when Harry arrived at King’s Cross station to see Teddy off for his first year at Hogwarts. He had begun to make peace with the idea that he may never see Draco Malfoy again, instead focusing his efforts on building up the relationships around him and allowing his friends all the love and companionship they deserved.

Perhaps he should have had the foresight to realise that as Teddy’s cousin and one of the more prominent adults in his life, Draco was likely to also show up at the station. It wasn’t until Harry had tripped over his own feet at seeing the blonde leaning against the entrance that his brain caught up to the logic however, and he hurried to arrange his expression in such a way that didn’t convey both his shock and absolute thrill at seeing him there. Judging by the raised brow and subtle smirk in response, he had failed miserably.

Teddy flung himself at Draco, dropping the trunk Harry had charmed lighter for him in the middle of the thoroughfare. Andromeda picked it up with a sigh, shooting an amused look back at Harry before she turned to fuss over Teddy as he pulled away from the hug.

Draco stepped into line behind the two of them as Andromeda led the way to the platform, keeping his pace slow until Harry caught up to him. “You seem surprised to see me, Potter.”

“It’s Harry,” he shot back. “A few years of not seeing each other doesn’t change that.”

“I suppose not.” Sighing, Draco offered a strained smile. “I was sorry to hear about your divorce, by the way.”

“You were?” Harry asked, slightly confused. “Well, you don’t need to be sorry. It was for the best.”

“Unless congratulations are in order?” Draco’s expression was unreadable, head tilted as he held Harry’s steady gaze. “Andromeda mentioned that you and Ginevra were still living together.”

“Yeah. Easier for the kids that way.”

“So not much has really changed. Why bother getting divorced then?”

Harry shook his head, looking at Andromeda and Teddy ahead of them before turning his gaze back to Draco. “A lot has changed. Besides, not all of us can stay married when we’d rather be with someone else.”

Maybe Draco heard the unintentional undertone in Harry's words, maybe Harry's thoughts were written plain across his face. Either way, Draco picked up on what, or more precisely, who Harry was referring to and sighed. “I’m not leaving my wife, Harry.”

“I know,” he said with a quick nod. It was something he’d thought about an awful lot since he and Gin had split, and he knew that forcing Malfoy’s hand would never end well for anyone involved. In truth, he should have learned that lesson in school. “I’m not asking you to, Draco. I didn’t do this for you, believe it or not.” Smiling to himself, Harry thought of how much things had improved for him in the past few years. A better relationship with Ginny and his children, more time at home and with his loved ones. How the kids really didn’t seem to mind—maybe they didn’t quite understand yet, to be fair—as long as their mum and dad were always there. “I did it for me.”

Draco opened his mouth to respond, cut off by Andromeda calling out from the barrier between platforms nine and ten. “Sorry to interrupt, boys, but we’ve got to get this one through before he misses the train.”

There were lots of hugs and tears once they made it out the other side of the brick, Teddy’s ecstasy at finally stepping foot on the platform being quickly overshadowed by all other emotions that came with leaving home for the first time to attend Hogwarts.

As he watched Teddy boarding the train, Harry felt a nostalgia wash over him as he remembered just how different everything was the last time he stood on this platform. The wounds that perhaps would never completely close felt slightly rawer than they did most days, his most haunted memories threatening to rear their ugly heads. He took a steeling breath and glanced at Draco beside him, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. What he saw mirrored there was unsurprising, allowing a bittersweet recognition to pass between the two of them.

The three of them waved goodbye long after the train had curved around the bend, nobody wanting to be the first to admit that Teddy was truly gone for the time being. It was Harry who dropped his arm first, turning to look back towards the man beside him.

“We’ll be sending our own kids off soon,” he said softly. “Isn’t that scary?”

“Bloody terrifying,” Draco agreed with a short laugh. “Though hopefully by then it’ll feel less…” He trailed off, but Harry knew exactly what he was referring to. It was the prickling feeling on their skin, the nausea that wouldn’t quite sit still. Something that only time and patience would be able to navigate.

“I’d best be off,” Andromeda said to their left, startling Harry out of his emotions. “You’ll both be here for Christmas holidays, of course?”

_December 2009_

Harry _wasn’t_ nervous. Harry _wasn’t_ excited. Harry had _definitely not_ spent the last week spiralling through all kinds of anticipatory emotions as he realised that it was almost time to meet Teddy on Platform 9 3/4 for Christmas hols, which meant that he was going to see Draco again.

And so he remained, fervently in denial until he had an armful of excited Edward Lupin back from his first term at Hogwarts, and there was no Draco Malfoy to be seen.

He stared blankly as Andromeda led the way back to the car Harry had driven them in, tuning out most of the chatter coming from beside him as he wondered what had kept the other man. Draco had said he would be there. Obviously he’d let Andromeda know he wasn’t coming or she’d have been more concerned, but that didn’t make Harry feel any better about his absence.

“…and Draco promised he’d take us next week, Nick’s got a wicked camera—”

“Take you where?” Harry asked, ears catching the name at the forefront of his mind. “What was that about Draco?”

Teddy squinted up at Harry, brow furrowed in confusion. “Were you listening to what I just said?”

“Er, of course. Just missed a few words.”

The eye roll that followed showed that Teddy didn’t buy his excuse, but he indulged Harry nonetheless. “My friend Nick says there’s real cool lights in Muggle London this time of year. Draco said he’d take us next week, ‘cause he can’t be here today.”

“Did he say why he couldn’t make it?” Harry’s tone was trying to be disinterested, casually curious, but the look Andromeda sent over her shoulder had his cheeks flushing at being caught out. The hint of pity that coloured it also confirmed his suspicions that it had something to do with him and he bit back a grimace as Teddy shrugged beside him.

***

Letting out a yawn as he tucked his book under his arm, Harry grabbed the tea he’d just made and walked into the spare room he now thought of as his own. He had planned to read for a few hours before putting the Santa presents under their tree but paused as he heard tapping at the window, curious as to who would be writing so late on Christmas Eve. Placing the tea down on his bedside table, he looked up to see the familiar owl waiting outside, envelope attached tightly to her leg.

Heart catching in his throat as he let the owl in and gave her one of Apollo’s treats, Harry tore into the sealed envelope so eagerly it was a miracle the contents were unharmed. A soft smile crossed his features as he took in the beautiful image; it was London, lit up with festive lights and a monumental Christmas tree in the foreground. Mild surprise came upon realising that it wasn’t moving, clearly taken by a muggle camera. Turning the photo over, his smile became an outright grin at the short message written in handwriting that he had dearly missed.

_Harry,_

_Teddy insisted we take a photo for you and I suggested this area — it reminded me of that light display in Edington back in ’99. I noticed they’re not nearly as elaborate anymore._

_Merry Christmas. I’ll see you in September._

_Draco_

Scrounging around for some fresh parchment, Harry quickly scribbled a _Merry Christmas_ in return along with his thanks, overjoyed that Draco’s owl had been instructed to wait for a response. As he watched her fly off into the night he felt his heart swelling; he wasn’t stupid enough to read too much into this, this time around. But Draco had extended the olive branch to at least be civil with one another and Harry was gladly taking it, grateful for the promise it held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while i'm not the hugest fan of the epilogue, this IS an epilogue compliant fic - we're only a few chapters away from that year, and i am very excited for you all to read how this develops and plays out 👀
> 
> next chapter will be up in a few hours x


	13. 2010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149557810331648/18_angel.jpg)
> 
> same warnings apply as last chapter - edited under the influence of strong painkillers and sore wisdom teeth (or sore holes where they used to be?), my dearest apologies if things Do Not Make Sense (i will do a proper edit of this entire story in january when it's all posted!)

_September 1 2010_

The atmosphere on Platform 9 3/4 felt lighter, less coloured by the pain and losses of long ago and more filled with hope. Harry had driven again, this time bringing Draco along with the three of them after he had floo’d over to Andromeda’s that morning. They made quite the crowd, Harry navigating as Teddy darted quickly between people in a mad race to board the Hogwarts Express before it took off.

Turning to see where Teddy’s trunk had ended up before he sent the young boy clambering onto the train without it, Harry saw Draco carrying it effortlessly a few strides behind him. Sending him a grateful smile he gestured towards it, watching Teddy grab the trunk before throwing his spare arm awkwardly around Draco first, then Andromeda. Harry was last in the lineup, taking a trunk to the back of his legs and wincing as he hugged his godson goodbye for the next few months.

“See you all at Christmas!” Teddy called as he ran full pelt towards the train, making it aboard just in time.

Waving goodbye, Draco turned to meet Harry’s eyes as the corners of his mouth pulled up in a slight smile. “I think we’ll do the lights again this year. Care to join us?”

_December 2010_

That was how Harry found himself spending a winter evening strolling the streets of London beside Draco Malfoy. They were both bundled up thick, Teddy a few steps ahead at all times and chattering non-stop at Nick about everything he saw without really expecting a response from any of them. It had been a few hours of enjoying festive lights, Christmas crowds and pleasant conversation with Draco.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last September,” Draco said in a hushed tone, eyes staying determinedly focussed on the boys ahead of them. “About how you said you didn’t get divorced for me.”

Harry stayed silent, unsure of where he was going with this train of thought. He watched Draco’s brow furrow as one hand pulled at the end of his scarf, the only tells that he was still slightly hesitant to share what was on his mind.

“Did you mean that?”

“Of course. No offence, but I’d hardly put my family and friends through that based on a few conversations with you.”

Draco snorted, shooting him a sideways glance. “Forgive me if I didn’t believe that at first. You were quite determined when I saw you in Diagon that day.”

“We were both very different people then,” Harry murmured. A solemn look fell over Draco as the icy wind brought Harry’s words to his ears, their truth undeniable. “Ginny helped me see that I was lying to myself about a lot of things. So while you may have been the catalyst, it wasn’t just about you. A lot has changed since then.”

“I see.”

There was a contemplative silence for a few moments before they both spoke at once.

“I was worried that—”

“Did you ever—”

They laughed, eyes meeting in a curious appreciation as Harry gestured for Draco to speak.

“It’s embarrassing to say aloud,” he admitted in a low voice as he glanced ahead, probably to check that the children weren’t listening. “But I was worried that you were just bored in your marriage and wanted to experiment. Or even that… well, it’s not really important. I guess I’m glad to hear you put more thought into it than that.”

Harry shrugged. “Like I said, I’m hardly the one to put my loved ones through something like that without thinking it through.”

Draco let out a surprised laugh, looking pointedly at Harry with his eyebrows raised. “Harry, you’re the poster boy for acting on impulse. I know,” he added as Harry made to argue, “we’ve all changed a lot since school. Still, you can’t blame me for wondering.”

“I guess not,” Harry agreed even as he glared, pouting slightly. He studied Draco’s face for a moment as he thought on his words, some of his earlier actions making more sense in the new light. “You really thought I just wanted to experiment?” He laughed, watching Draco grumble as he did so. “There are so many less complicated people I could have done that with, you idiot.”

“You stayed with Ginevra almost two years after that day.” Draco’s voice was quiet, the uncertainty shining through in his tone. “Merlin, you had another bloody kid. I wondered if maybe—”

“Lily was… unintentional,” Harry admitted, keeping an eye on Teddy and Nick to make sure they didn’t catch what he was saying. Seeing them staring wide eyed at the angelic lights that hung between buildings, he continued. “I don’t regret it at all, of course. I love Lily more than anything. But we’d decided to divorce right before Ginny got pregnant and then realised it would be better for the family if we kept it quiet until after she was born. Ended up giving Gin a lot more time to talk some sense into me about quitting work as well, among other things.”

There was a pause before Draco spoke, his overly nonchalant tone telling Harry just how interested he was in the response. “So, are you still as interested as you were when you made a scene in the middle of that crowded cafe? I’ve never been able to go back, I’ll have you know.”

Harry tried not to grimace as he remembered that day, and recognised just how much more interested he was now than he had been back then. Thankfully he’d matured enough not to shout about it anymore. “Does it matter if I am? Besides, I’m not sure Astoria would be okay with it either way.”

Draco snorted, shaking his head. “She knows who she married. Do you want a signed permission slip or something? _I, Astoria Selene Malfoy nee Greengrass, hereby give permission for Harry Potter to—_ ”

“Alright, alright. That’s not really what I meant,” Harry said with a laugh. “I just remember what you said about not disrespecting your marriage.”

“That’s when I was worried you were just curious." Draco hesitated, meeting Harry's eyes uncertainly. "I think we've too much history for that to have ended well.”

Harry nodded his understanding. “Don’t worry, I’ve done my experimenting.”

“Oh?" Draco's eyebrows were up so high they disappeared beneath his woollen hat. "I’m surprised I haven’t seen that splashed across all of the magazines. What’d you do, obliviate the poor buggers when you were done?”

Letting out a shocked burst of laughter, Harry saw the boys turn back to look at them. Shaking his head and giving them a thumbs up as he continued to chuckle, he glanced sideways to see Draco looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “Muggles, actually.”

“Ah,” Draco said, an air of understanding about him. “Yes, they are quite good for anonymity.”

“You mean you—”

“Death Eater, remember? Not many wizards who spare you a second glance, unless they're into some disturbing things.” Though his tone was lighthearted, Harry could hear the bitter edge to his words. “It’s also part of why I discouraged this from going much further, honestly. I don’t want Scorpius to deal with the world thinking his father’s seducing their Saviour for evil.”

“I doubt anyone would think that,” Harry scoffed. “It’s been over a decade.”

Shaking his head, Draco sighed. “It’s funny how much some people refuse to move on, Harry.”

Taking in the meaning behind Draco’s words, Harry felt the bile rising in his throat at the thought of what the media was likely to say if anyone caught wind of them together. No matter how innocent their intentions… Merlin, even being photographed together tonight would be less than ideal if that were truly the case. Harry knew that no matter how much they might want to take the plunge right now, there was too much weight behind Draco’s train of thought, too much truth in the fear. It would take a lot more than one night in the snow to change his stance, or the world’s for that matter. If it were just the two of them at stake, perhaps, but there was more to consider here. Their children would always come first, he knew that better than anyone.

“What if…” Harry trailed off, wondering how best to move forward. “What if we just do this, for now? You’re right about us having too much history, and the papers are horrible at the best of times. And I know you won’t leave Astoria, and we’re both somewhat responsible for this one,” he said as he gestured to Teddy in front of them. “I’d hate for things to get messy. Having you cut contact every other year is a bit difficult now that we’re seeing more of each other.”

“We could just alternate meeting Teddy at the station if we make a mess of it,” Draco suggested.

“Already planning for the worst?” Harry teased.

“I’ve been planning for the worst since the day the Dark Lord came back. It’s in my nature.”

Shocked by the raw sincerity behind Draco’s response, Harry paused for a moment as he watched Draco’s eyes meet his briefly before dropping to stare at his feet.

“I guess we’ll have to work on changing that then,” he said tentatively, “starting with keeping this Christmas lights tradition. Think we can manage that much?" At Draco's barely perceptible nod, Harry grinned before making to catch up with the boys before they crossed the road ahead. "There’s no rush, Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they! are! finally! talking! about! feelings! (kinda)
> 
> next chapter at some point tomorrow x


	14. 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148697873285120/2_snowflake.jpg)
> 
> merry christmas to those of you who celebrate it! please enjoy this gift of purely self indulgent fluff/a lil bit of feelings

_December 2011_

“You go ahead! We’ll be right inside,” Harry said, smiling as the two boys ran excitedly through the doors.

“I’m not sure leaving them to their own devices is a good idea,” Draco said as he watched them through the glass panels in the storefront. “Though I won’t complain for a few minutes of peace.”

Taking a quick look around them to make sure nobody was paying attention, Harry cast a quick cushioning charm on Teddy and Nick before turning back to Draco, gesturing towards a low brick fence by the roadside. “They’ll be supervised enough in there for a few minutes. I just wanted to spend more than two seconds outside without the threat of getting a snowball to the face.”

“Was that charm for the store’s protection, or their own?” Draco asked as he followed Harry’s lead and took a seat atop the brick. “Because it seemed too well rehearsed to be the first time you’ve had to do that.”

Having the grace to look sheepish at that, Harry ducked his head. “I, er, maybe use them a lot on the kids. I didn’t really have anyone looking out for me when I was their age—”

“—and look how you’ve turned out,” Draco muttered as he rolled his eyes. “Oh well, if it gives you some peace of mind and buys us a few more minutes outside, who am I to complain?”

“Draco Malfoy, not complaining? Now there’s a Christmas miracle.” Laughing at Draco’s pout, Harry nudged his shoulder with his own and shook his head fondly. “Come off it, you prat. Now tell me more about the goblin negotiations.”

Watching as Draco launched into an animated retelling of what Hermione had described to him as absolute hell, Harry grinned at the enthusiastic hand gestures that accompanied his story. There was a lot of tension within both the Ministry and the wizarding banking communities over the current legislation Hermione hoped to pass; the details were a bit hazy to Harry, but he knew they had been motivated by some of her conversations with Griphook all those years ago about wand lore and goblin rights. Entertained as Harry was by the thought of Hermione and Draco in a room together—from what she’d described, Draco was actually responsible for a lot of the financial decisions at Gringotts—he couldn’t help but get distracted by his actions. The way the light cast by street lamps caught his eyes, the stray piece of hair that had slipped loose from his winter hat. How his long spindly fingers moved with each word, telling a story of their own.

They’d had quite the year since their last Christmas light adventure. Draco adamantly refused to have Harry over to the manor, or to come visit Harry in Edington despite Ginny having moved into her own flat early in the year. Instead they had met a few times at muggle cafes, reminding Harry of what felt like a lifetime ago before they’d both become fathers and had so much more responsibility. Letters were exchanged with more regularity and even outside of September, they had crossed paths seeing Teddy many times. It was nothing Harry could call more than friendship, but he was more than happy for it to remain so, as long as Draco stayed in his life.

He sat admiring the unguarded emotions crossing Draco’s face as he continued, attention particularly caught by the light snow that had started to fall. Some fell atop Draco’s hat and Harry felt himself smiling at the scene before him.

“Harry?” Draco asked, bringing him back into the moment. “You could at least pretend to be listening.”

Cheeks heating at Draco’s smirk, Harry hurriedly made to defend himself. “I am! I mean, I was. I just got distracted by the snow around you.”

“Is that so?” Draco quirked a brow at him, eyes moving around his face. “There’s some in your hair, actually.”

Harry felt his breath hitch as Draco reached out a hand to brush snow off his hat, making its way down to the tangled curls that stuck out beneath it before resting on the side of his face. The world stood stood still as he froze, eyes meeting Draco’s in a whirlwind of emotion.

The gloved hand on his cheek asking a question, the answering heat in Draco’s gaze all the encouragement he needed. Harry leaned forward, warm breath brushing across cold lips. Hands shaking with what felt like two decades of anticipation.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss that shattered the earth or ruined a person, though in truth Draco had ruined him long ago. No, that kiss would come later, when they were away from prying eyes and the winter cold. This was short, sweet and had the corners of Harry’s mouth pulling up in a smile even before they’d pulled away from one another.

He saw the blissful smile and glazed eyes mirrored back to him on Draco’s face for a few precious moments before the other man blinked quickly, seeming to snap back to his thoughts.

“I— we shouldn’t have done that,” Draco blurted out.

World crashing around him, Harry tried his best not to panic immediately. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Because we’re starting something we shouldn’t, that’s bloody why not.”

“But why shouldn’t we?”

Shaking his head, Draco huffed. “Have you forgotten that I’m married?”

“I thought you said Astoria was fine with this,” Harry said, watching Draco glare in response. “I assume she hasn’t changed her mind?”

“That’s hardly the point, Harry.”

Crossing his arms, Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco. “You’re not making a good argument against this. You can’t just kiss me and then tell me it’s a bad idea!”

“I can so,” Draco said with a pout. “Fine. You want logic? I’ll give you logic. First of all: you know we’d barely see each other anyway. We’ve both got kids—”

“—who have mothers,” Harry reminded him.

“Yes, well. I also happen to have a very important job, and I’ll be back in France most of the year anyway, and honestly Potter, you can’t expect me to just—”

“You’re moving back to France?”

Draco shook his head. “Not moving, just— hang on. You really weren’t listening to me before?”

Blushing, Harry looked down at his hands. “You’re quite distracting.”

“Evidently.”

Daring a glance back at Draco, he was glad to see the blonde looking amused rather than annoyed for his inattention. He smiled, before clearing his throat. “So, France?”

“Mother wants me to come visit more often. She’s not doing well,” Draco admitted. “The healers think they’ve caught whatever is causing her grief early enough to treat it, but I’m still worried.”

Harry hadn’t heard much of Narcissa Malfoy since the war, but he still felt he partially owed her his life and besides that, the pain was written clear as day across Draco’s face. “I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching over to squeeze Draco’s glove with his own. “I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s alright. She’s got the best healers, and there’s not much I can really do besides providing moral support as requested.”

“Understandable,” Harry said with a nod. “I know this means you won’t be in town much, but maybe when you are…”

Shaking his head, Draco gave him a sad smile. “I’m not sure I can do more than this, Harry. I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair.”

“If it’s just not having much time, then I really don’t mind this being casual while we figure things out.”

Draco sighed, leaning back and tilting his head to the sky. “That’s not it, Harry.”

“Oh.” Feeling his cheeks heat up, Harry looked away. “Sorry. I just assumed—”

“Not like that, you idiot.” There was a moment’s pause, during which Harry refused to look back at what Draco was doing for fear of what he might see. _Or might not see_. “You want to know why why I’m scared to let this happen, even casually?”

“Er, I suppose so?”

Draco let out a soft, hollow laugh. “It’s the same reason Astoria was so worried about you ruining our marriage. Why I’ve avoided being alone with you, really.”

“I’m not entirely sure I follow,” Harry admitted slowly. “Why?”

“I… I can’t let Scorpius live with my mistakes. You’ve heard me say it a million times now, I know. What you don’t understand is that, well, I know that the more time I spend with you, the more we do this…” Draco sighed, following it with an empty laugh. “Harry, I’ll never want it to end.”

Turning his head to catch Draco’s wistful look in his direction, Harry gave him a gentle smile. “What if it doesn’t have to?”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can’t. But I do know that it’s been a bloody long time now, and while we can’t predict the future, I’d say it’s a pretty good indicator of how things might go.”

“You make it sound so simple,” he said, sadness creeping into his voice.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated, Draco.”

Shaking his head fondly, Draco smiled. “You know things are never that simple with us.”

“What if for once in our lives, we stopped thinking about what would happen later and just enjoyed ourselves?”

Draco laughed. “I think we’ve spent a lot of our lives ignoring the consequences, actually. That’s the whole problem.”

“Things were very different back then,” Harry pointed out. “I think we could make this work.”

Hesitating, Draco chewed on his lip as he thought for a moment. “You know that we can’t tell anyone.” At Harry’s immediate nod, he shook his head. “I mean it, Scorpius comes first.”

“I know.”

“And you know that I won’t be getting a divorce,” Draco said, his tone almost a challenge.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be in France most of the weekends anyway, you know.”

“So you’ve said,” Harry said, amused. “Any other excuses?”

Shaking his head, Draco’s voice was small as he dropped his eyes to the pavement. “You really want this?”

“Merlin, yes. Get it through your thick skull.”

Draco sat there for a moment looking down at the snow covered street, face frozen as if stunned. He blinked once, twice, before turning to meet Harry’s eyes with a puzzled expression, eyes searching his face as if seeking the answers to all of the universe’s mysteries.

And now it was Draco closing the distance between them, Harry’s eyes fluttering closed as their lips met, hesitantly at first before Draco’s fingers found their way into the messy strands of hair at the nape of his neck and tugged, urgency finding its way into their kiss. This kiss was equally as heated as their first had been gentle, the years of pent up aggression and repressed emotion taking over as they pulled closer. Their unspoken words were poured into soft moans and desperate lips, hands finding whatever bare skin they could and staking their claim. It was everything Harry had wanted for yet never dared to dream of, and he kissed as if he were a starving man and Draco Malfoy was to be his last meal.

It was Teddy’s shout that had them rapidly pulling away from one another, heads darting around to see the boys exit back onto the street and scan the vicinity for them. Harry stood, Draco doing the same beside him as he brushed some of the snow off his jeans before clearing his throat and calling out to the boys.

“Gin’s got the kids tonight,” Harry whispered, watching Draco pause before looking at him with questioning eyes. “After we leave these two with Andromeda, did you want to—”

They were both too caught up in one another to spot the snowballs flying at them before it was too late. To his credit, Draco recovered pretty well from the shock—perhaps because he had only been hit in the leg, where Harry got a face full of snow that had him brushing off his glasses for a few moments—immediately turning to the offending children with a stern face.

“Come on then, I think you’ve had quite enough time in the snow for one evening. Let’s get you both home to Andromeda.”

The boys grumbled, offering half hearted apologies as Draco guided them towards the street they’d need to take to the nearest floo point. Harry placed his glasses back on his face, turning to catch Draco’s eye and watching him smile before giving a small nod in response. Grinning so hard his cheeks threatened to split, Harry followed the three of them home filled with renewed hope and anticipation for what was to come.


	15. 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149285972639776/13_Mulled-Wine.jpg)
> 
> chapter warnings: mulled wine!

_December 2012_

It was very rare these days that Harry resented Hermione’s astute observation skills. With her work getting busier they’d seen less of each other in recent months and for the most part, when they did see one another he talked openly and didn’t feel like he was hiding anything. The one secret he was keeping was also the topic that most of his friends had given up on, instead supporting Harry’s decision to focus on the children and occasionally asking him to volunteer his time when they needed some extra hands.

That’s probably why he felt blindsided by her intuitive perception as he relaxed in front of the fire, sipping on mulled wine while waiting for Hermione’s return from the bathroom.

“You’ll never guess who I saw at work this morning,” she called from the hallway.

“Probably not, yeah.” Harry waited a few moments for the answer that didn’t come. “Are you going to tell me?”

Stepping into the doorway and leaning against the frame, Hermione tilted her head towards him. “I’ll give you a hint. He had the same loved up expression on his face as you right now.”

“Gee, ‘Mione. That really narrows it down,” Harry said, taking great care to keep his face as neutral as possible. He now had a very good idea of who she’d seen in the DMLE that morning; he’d come home with Harry last night after their Christmas light outing and woken him up very enthusiastically before work.

Walking back to her seat, she kept her gaze trained on Harry. “Usually my first question in this scenario would be: what is Draco Malfoy doing in my department? However, somehow I had another more pressing question today: how long has he been shagging my best friend and _why didn’t you tell me_?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even think about it, Harry. You’ve always been a rubbish liar.”

It took all of two seconds for him to give in, slumping against the back of his chair. “I didn’t tell you because there’s not much to tell,” he admitted. “It’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” She asked, settling into her chair and picking up the mug she’d left on the table between them. “You’ve pined after that man for how many years and sit here trying to tell me it’s not serious?”

“Er, kinda.” He shrugged, knowing there was no point hiding the details from her anymore. “He’s busy with work anyway, and we’ve both got kids—”

“Do you ever think about having him bring Scorpius over? He is the same age as Al, after all.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s the exact opposite of what he would want, ‘Mione. The less he has to think about what could potentially happen— which infuriates me, by the way.” Throwing back a large sip of his drink, Harry groaned before running his spare hand through his hair. “He’s so bloody stubborn! Always thinking that it would be the end of the world if people got talking about us. He thinks they’d make it seem like he’d cursed me into it or something. Isn’t that stupid?”

“He’s got a point,” Hermione said with a shrug. “They’re still not all that forgiving on Death Eaters, even at the Ministry. It’s a wonder he doesn’t go mad just being at work each day.”

“Oh.” Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking back to his Ministry days. “I didn’t realise it was so bad. It was in the Aurors, obviously, but surely that’s different?”

“It’s still not great, unfortunately. It’s probably worse for Draco than most of them.”

Turning to look at her grimace, Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, a lot of the marked Death Eaters were a generation above us, so they’d made their decisions early and had time to accept how things could be. But Draco… Well, he was raised to think he would have it all, then coaxed into it for his family and ended up left with nothing.”

“Nothing isn’t the end of the world,” Harry remarked scornfully. “A lot of people were left with nothing after Voldemort. And I had nothing as a child, didn’t I?”

“Harry…” She leaned back, eyes trained on the flickering of the fire as she thought for a moment. “There’s a big difference between you having nothing as a child and Draco having nothing now. You didn’t know any different then. He has only ever known different. He’s had expectations on him since he was born, and I know you did too, but he knew about them his entire life. You had no idea before Hagrid showed up.”

Trying to piece together Hermione’s logic, Harry frowned. “So, he didn’t get everything he wanted?”

“So now he feels like he has to pay the price for the faults of his family, even though they’re not his faults entirely.” Hermione turned to him, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “He doesn’t want Scorpius to have to deal with the same. I think he's scared that if people have anything bad to say about the Malfoy family—more than they already are—Scorpius will bear the brunt of that in school. Which isn't entirely true, but he's projecting his own childhood expectations onto his son.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Harry admitted, grimacing.

“It’s not, but I suspect it’s less about Scorpius and more about him. Similar to you after the war, really. He doesn’t think he deserves happiness after all he’s done. Draco wants to pay for his crimes, even though he really already has. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, thinking back over their time together. Even in just the past year alone he’d seen a different side to Draco; they hadn’t spent more than a few days out of each month together, but it was incredibly to see how far they’d come. He could see it now though, how coloured Draco’s words and actions were by what Harry’d thought to be stubbornness but now recognised as potentially something more. Self preservation, to start, but Hermione seemed close to the mark when she said he probably still placed a lot of blame and need for penance onto himself.

“I know you said it’s not serious,” Hermione said, her cautious voice warning Harry that she was about to say something she knew he mightn’t like. “But I also know how much you’ve wanted this. Don’t let things go on like this too long without making sure he’s ready for all the things that come with dating you, Harry. At some point he will have to forgive himself.”

Sighing, Harry looked at the gentle pity in her eyes before taking a long drink from the mulled wine, cinnamon and orange rolling over his tastebuds. “Honestly? I’m not sure he ever will.”

“Then you have to—”

“Right now I don’t have to do anything,” he said, cutting Hermione off as he raised his spare hand at her. “If that changes, yeah, maybe, but not now. Narcissa’s really sick and he’s spending more time over there with her every month. I barely see him, and we’re keeping things secret while he’s still with Astoria. Honestly ‘Mione, right now we’re just two friends who have sex sometimes.”

“Two friends who have sex sometimes and are hopelessly in love with one another,” she muttered with a glare in his direction.

Pressing his head into the back of the armchair, Harry sighed. Curse Hermione’s powers of observation. “Yeah, maybe that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is having a lovely festive period! next two chapters will be up by tomorrow morning x


	16. 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149109816983562/9_ice_deer.jpg)

_December 2013_

Regent Street seemed more magical every year. Not in the sense that there were more witches and wizards around, though Harry was sure that was also the case, but in how it made him feel. Every visit transported him to a place that felt otherworldly and held comforting memories, like the first time he’d laid eyes on Hogwarts. More than that, he could be himself without fear of press harassing him—many muggle destinations were good for this reason—but he could also be with Draco in public, even if they couldn’t be particularly affectionate in front of the boys.

There had been no snowfall tonight, but after their traditional light adventure Draco had suggested they walk down to Hyde Park to see the ice rink. When they were almost there, Harry spotted some icy slush presumably from snow earlier in the week and gestured to Draco for the boys to follow him.

“Draco, entertain them for a bit please? Take them to the rink or something. I’ll be a few minutes.”

Raising an eyebrow but not questioning his motives, Draco nodded and called for the boys to keep walking with him. Grinning, Harry thought back to the snowmen he’d learned to make for Lily from inside the house last winter. He had never been much good with traditional ice carving charms, but he had become better at Transfiguration since school and Hermione had shown him some pointers when he’d mentioned what he had in mind.

It wasn’t bending the rules of Transfiguration, per se, it was more of what he liked to call thinking outside of the box. He’d never been much for rules anyway, right? What he had in mind was slightly larger than a novelty snowman to make his daughter laugh, so the fact that it took five minutes worth of attempts was only mildly disheartening and more than worth it when the final product came to life.

The stag was barely five feet tall but it was enough to almost have Harry in tears, though with appreciation or the slight pangs of loss he still felt from time to time he couldn’t say. When he heard Teddy’s yell he broke out into a grin, spinning to watch the teen careen over to him as fast as his legs would carry him.

Teddy wanted to hear stories about the marauders again, of course, and Harry obliged. Moony, Padfoot and Prongs were regular features in the tales he’d told Teddy growing up, and tonight seemed to be bringing about some nostalgia in them all. His eyes met Draco’s every now and then, a depth of emotion in them that had his heart aching. He vowed to do this every year, and said as much in perhaps not so many words.

Prongs carved from ice and snow stood shimmering in the low light and Harry smiled as he took in his handiwork, Teddy now talking with Nick in quiet tones as Harry moved closer to Draco.

“How are you holding up?” Harry asked quietly, watching the other man’s eyes stay fixed on the stag. “You seem a bit lost in thought.”

Draco laughed softly, the sound not quite reaching his eyes. “Just wondering how things might have been different.”

“They still can be,” Harry whispered, gloved hand brushing against Draco’s. “They are, actually.”

“Yeah,” came the answering murmur, Draco’s voice shaking as he turned bright eyes on Harry. “They are.”

It had been a beautiful moment, shattered by Nick shouting as he fell to the ground. Teddy stood above him, looking as if he may have been responsible for pushing him.

“He didn’t! You’re lying,” Teddy said, voice desperate.

Nick shrugged as he got to his feet, looking over at where Harry and Draco stood. “Why don’t you ask him then?”

“You’re a liar.”

Harry walked over quickly, ready to separate whatever was going on. “What’s the problem?”

Pointing at Draco, Nick met Harry’s eyes with an aggressive stare, daring him to call out the lie. “He killed people.”

“What?” Harry felt a chill to his bones, unsure of what had brought about this behaviour. It had been so long since he’d had to defend Draco… He certainly wasn’t expecting it from someone who had spent as much time with him as Nick. “Where did you hear that?”

“My dad said he’s a Death Eater. Your parents were killed by them,” he said, directing his words back to Teddy now as he pointed at the stag. “And he was one of them.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know he actually killed people…” Teddy’s eyes flickered to where Draco stood a few steps behind Harry, uncertainty showing. “Gran just said he made some bad choices.”

Harry cleared his throat, glowering at both of the boys. “That’s enough, both of you. Draco did make some bad choices, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. We all make bad choices.”

“My dad said he killed—”

“Nick, go home and tell your dad I killed people too, okay? See how he takes that.” At the wide-eyed expressions before him, Harry realised that maybe he was shouting a bit louder than strictly necessary. Dropping his voice, Harry tried to dial it back a bit. “Sorry, don’t tell him that. But just know there’s more to it than what you’re hearing.”

“Harry, stop.” Draco had been noticeably silent through most of this, but now he met Harry’s eyes, something in them that made Harry uneasy. Shaking his head gently, Draco sighed. “I think we should go home now.”

Deciding that they should forego finding a floo location, Harry let Draco apparate Teddy while he took Nick. If Andromeda was unimpressed or confused by their appearance at the front door instead of the fireplace, she didn’t mention it, taking Harry’s hurried whispers by ways of explanation and assuring him that she’d speak with the boys before sending Nick home.

Satisfied that Andromeda would handle the situation, Harry stepped closer to where Draco was leaning by the doorway, frown affixed on his face as if he’d been hit with a permanent sticking charm. He watched the blonde’s eyes glance at him as he approached, before murmuring low enough so the others wouldn’t hear. “Come home with me?”

“No.”

“Walk with me then?” Looking around as if to remind Draco of their current audience, Harry dropped his voice even lower. “We can’t have this conversation here,”

“What conversation? You heard Nick, I’m a monster. Even Teddy thinks so,” he added in a bitter undertone.

“He does not. Now come outside with me, please, before you do something stupid?”

Glaring unrepentantly, Draco shook his head slowly. “You mean like I did in the war?”

With an exasperated sigh, Harry led the way outside and heard the second set of footsteps a few beats behind him. He continued to march until they were in the street and a few houses down from Andromeda’s, hopefully not visible from any of the windows. Turning around to level Draco with a look that hopefully conveyed just how unimpressed he was, Harry decided that now was not the time to let the other man dwell on his past mistakes.

“What Nick said tonight,” he began, ignoring the eye roll he got in response. “It doesn’t matter if you killed people, Draco. We all did what we had to do.”

“I didn’t,” Draco mumbled, after a pause.

“Didn’t what?”

“Kill people. I couldn’t do it,” he admitted, looking to his feet.

“Well, I did. Does that make me more evil than you?”

“No, because you were fighting for the right bloody thing.” Draco’s head snapped up, chin jutting out defiantly at whatever he saw in Harry’s expression. “For Merlin’s sake. Stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Being such a goddamn hero! Not everyone needs saving, Harry.”

Harry shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes trained on Draco. “I’m not trying to save you.”

“No?” Draco threw his hands up, exasperated. “Then what’s this?”

“This is me telling you that you deserve more than you think you do.”

Draco scoffed, kicking at the ground as he mumbled. “Sounds a whole lot like trying to save me.”

“Maybe this isn’t just about you, Draco. Not everything has to be about you!” Harry was frustrated, running a hand through his hair as he speared Draco with a meaningful look. “If I’m trying to save anything, it’s this. Us.”

“Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.” Draco’s voice was low, unrepenting. “You see what I’ve been saying all this time? If two kids who barely saw the war can’t forgive me, how will the rest of the world?”

Harry saw the fear, the panic in Draco’s eyes. The words he wasn’t saying. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No, Harry. I should have done this a long time ago.”

“Draco—”

“Just, don’t.” He turned away from Harry, but not before he caught sight of the tears in his eyes. “I’ll owl you, okay?”

Harry knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t going to owl. He also knew that fighting was a pointless endeavour. Dejected, he nodded a second too late as he heard the distinct crack of apparation and Draco was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorrrryyyyyyy i promise i will make up for the angsty times! gotta throw some ✨emotions✨ at the boys for character development, right?
> 
> next chap up in a few hours x


	17. 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783148826587299910/5_christmas_in_sand.jpg)

_ 2014 _

_Draco,_

_I know you don’t want to hear from me because you haven’t owled yet, but I just want to check that you’re okay. You weren’t there to see Teddy off._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_I guess I hoped you would have replied by now. It’s been almost a month. If you don’t want this to continue, you could at least let me know. I hope that’s not the case though, I really liked what we had._

_Is this still about what happened at Christmas? Did I do something wrong?_

_Please talk to me._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_I’m starting to think you’re never going to reply. Hermione said you’ve stopped advising one of the big cases she’s working on. Is everything okay?_

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_I saw the news about your mother. I’m so sorry, I know how much she meant to you._

_I wish I could be there to take away your pain, but I respect that you probably don’t want that right now._

_My condolences to you and your family, please let me know if I can support you in any way._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_Teddy told me that you said goodbye already but I still hate that you weren’t there to see him off. I wanted to see you. I still do. I hope you’ll come to meet him at King’s Cross for the Christmas hols. I know you’re back at the Manor, Hermione said you’re showing up at the Ministry again._

_I know you’re not going to reply. I’m going to keep sending these anyway._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but you’re the first person I wanted to share the idea with and I guess this is as close as I’ll get to that._

_Hermione’s almost convinced me that I should start working again. The kids are all at school now, James is off to Hogwarts next year and there’s only so much moping around the house I can do - her words, not mine. I think I might try and do some good. Open a charity or something. Maybe I’ll work with the Ministry and not completely hate it this time._

_What do you think?_

_I know you’re not going to answer. Sometimes I wonder if you’re even getting these. I’m sure you must be, or Apollo would be bringing the letters back._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_Teddy’s acting too old for Christmas lights. I bet he’d want to go if you were coming with us. I know last year ended horribly, but I really wish I was on Regent Street with you right now. Life seemed so good whenever we were there. Like things might turn out better, you know?_

_That probably sounds ridiculous. Maybe it’s just the time of year that has me thinking of you more than ever. Who am I kidding, I never stopped. Sometimes I wish I could, just so that I could stop writing to you about how much I miss you. Maybe one day I’ll take the hint._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_Draco,_

_Merry Christmas. I hope you’re having a wonderful time wherever you are._

_We took the kids away for Christmas - Al took this photo. I bet he and Scorpius would get along. Scary that they’re only a few years away from Hogwarts, isn’t it?_

_I really considered not sending this to you. I’m starting to wonder if this is pointless._

_I miss you._

_Harry_

_***_

_Harry,_

_Merry Christmas. You’re right, Teddy is acting too old to see the lights. It’s not just you._

_I took Scorpius to see them this year - we go most years anyway, but this was his first year without his grandmother there. It is scary to think that Hogwarts is only a few years away._

_I’m glad we’re both enjoying the holidays with our families, as we should be._

_Draco_

_P.S. Granger’s got the right idea. Start that charity, or whatever you've decided on. The world could use more of Harry Potter doing good._


	18. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149043769409546/8_mistletoe.jpg)
> 
> two chapters out from the ✨epilogue✨!  
> cw for mentions of alcohol

_December 2015_

Many great things had happened when Harry had quit the Aurors. Spending more time with his children—by extension allowing Ginny to go back to work full time—had been the immediately obvious benefit, but as the years went on he realised just how much he had tangled his own identity up with the idea of fighting the bad guys. The sense of self he’d managed to reclaim was unlike anything else he’d experienced, and having more free time to explore his interests was fulfilling to no end.

Another big perk of quitting was that he had been able to avoid most Ministry functions since then.

The fact that he was here tonight, in a set of dress robes he’d let Ginny pick out and making small talk with various heads of department was not lost on him. In taking time to learn what he wanted to do with his life, finding his feet in the new venture and ultimately needing to schmooze the who’s who of the Ministry, Harry had come full circle.

In his haste to forget about the event before it had even begun, Harry had barely spared a thought for who would be in attendance. If he’d spared more than a single brain cell, it might have crossed his mind to consider the fact that Draco was employed to advise various Ministry departments—or he was, last Harry’d heard—and therefore chances of crossing paths tonight were high.

But as someone had once pointed out, Harry sometimes had the tendency to be slightly oblivious to the finer details. Even when it came to Draco.

If nothing else, Harry knew he’d made for a night of prime entertainment for his ex-wife. Ginny was by his side tonight, both technically invited of their own accord but choosing to go together to save the hassle of finding dates or showing up alone; Ginny’s current girlfriend was off in Norway with her husband and their two sons, and Harry was exhausted by the thought of the press seeing him here with anyone else. They were enjoying a child-free night: Albus and Lily were with Molly for the night, with Harry planning to pick them both up before getting James from King’s Cross for the Christmas holidays.

Which was how he found himself here, Ginny dressed to the nines by his side and teasing him for being too distracted by a certain blonde to focus on anything else.

“So, your love letters aren’t working then? He hasn’t replied?”

“He’s replied three times now,” Harry said with a sigh. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s good, right? Three replies is better than none.” Ginny paused, taking in Harry’s sheepish expression. “Merlin, Harry. How many letters have you sent?”

“I don’t actually know,” he admitted. “More than three, that’s for sure.”

Stifling a laugh, Ginny reached for another glass of champagne from the waiter passing them. “Alright, so your love letters aren’t working. What’s your next plan?”

Pouting, Harry took a glass of wine from the tray and sent a glare at Ginny. “You make it sound as if I’ve got a laundry list of plans to win Draco back.”

“You don’t?” At the shake of his head, Ginny pondered for a moment. “Trap him under the mistletoe?”

“Hard to trap someone who’s actively avoided you for two years.”

As she sipped on her champagne, Ginny looked over Harry’s shoulder. When she looked back to him there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You could just walk over there and snog him senseless.”

“Gin, were you staring at him?”

“Not quite,” she said with a cheeky grin. “At least, I wasn’t.”

Groaning, Harry ran an errant hand through his hair. “Can you not? I don’t want him to think we’re talking about him.”

“Too late for that. He’s been staring this way for at least the last hour now.”

“He has not!” Harry cried, before hastily dropping his voice as he noticed heads turning their direction. “He has not.”

Ginny shrugged. “At least as long as we’ve been talking about him then. Might as well be an hour for the amount you’ve ignored every word I’ve said, while panicking about being in the same room as him.”

“I am not panicking.”

“Whatever you want to call it then.” Tilting her head, Ginny’s gaze looked to be quite transfixed on something across the room. She dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “Astoria’s quite pretty up close, isn’t she? I mean, she’s stunning from a distance, but I didn’t realise—”

“What do you mean, up close?

“You must be Ginevra Potter,” came the familiar voice behind his right shoulder. “I’m quite the fan of your column.”

With a flirtatious giggle, Ginny swung her red curls to one side as she extended a hand. “Ginny, please.”

Harry turned, coming face to face with Astoria as expected. He tried to smile as he watched her eyes rake over him, but it seemed like a tight grimace was all that his face was capable of.

“Harry, lovely to see you again.”

“You as well,” he said, accepting the kisses that landed on each of his cheeks. “You’ve met my, er, Ginny. Gin, this is Astoria Malfoy.”

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, turning back to Ginny and complimenting her dress. When Ginny perked up and exchanged compliments of her own, Harry tuned the two of them out as he prepared for how to react when Draco inevitably followed his wife over.

Craning his neck, Harry spotted Draco standing by the far wall, looking far too relaxed and delectable as ever in his perfectly tailored navy dress robes as he conversed with what appeared to be Hermione’s newest hire.

Catching his movement, Astoria chuckled softly. “He won’t come over here, trust me.”

“Why not?” Did Draco really not want anything to do with him? Harry felt the air escape his lungs, like the weight of the world was crushing him. Could he not even manage being civil for the sake of public appearances?

“For the same reasons as you, I imagine.”

Confused, Harry looked to Ginny who was sharing an amused look with Astoria.

Sighing, Astoria glanced towards her husband before leaning in closer to Harry to speak. “Because neither of you wants to be publicly outed in your affections, and yet there’s too much history to be discussed before you can be within speaking distance of one another without addressing it?”

“That’s not—”

“And because neither of them has the self restraint to not make a scene,” Ginny added. “You’ll likely just end up pushing him against a wall and doing unimaginable things to one another at a Ministry function.”

Astoria laughed, shaking her head slowly as she looked between the two men. “I’m not entirely sure I’d call them unimaginable anymore.”

Taken aback by how unfortunately accurate both women were in their logic, Harry stood there incapable of retorting, staring open-mouthed at both of them. Enough time passed that they laughed in harmony, before launching into teasing recollections of how insufferable their respective dates had been over the past two years. While reassuring to know that he wasn’t alone in his feelings, the entire conversation was beginning to feel quite demeaning, or perhaps simply too brutally honest for his broken heart.

Harry tipped back the rest of his drink before clearing his throat. “Have you just come over here to embarrass me then? I thought Gin was doing a good enough job of that on her own.”

“But you make it so easy!” Astoria remarked with a soft laugh. At Harry’s answering groan, she gave his shoulder a gentle pat. “You’re right, that’s not why I’m here. Though it’s unlike you to be so observant, if my memory serves correctly.”

Letting out a sigh as Ginny roared with laughter, Harry pushed his hair back with his spare hand and shook his head. These two women together was something he didn’t think any amount of preparation would ever have him ready for, and they’d barely known each other five minutes.

“I’m here to tell you that stubborn as my husband may be, I’m glad you seem to be equally so. He’s a fool, and even more foolish to try denying how taken he is with you, but Merlin, he needs you. There’s a lot he will probably have to work through before he can admit to that, and there’s only so many times I can repeat myself before we both end up in Janus Thickey.” Astoria laughed nervously, shaking her head before letting out a sigh. “Those years with you were the happiest I’ve ever seen Draco. I don’t know if you’ll get much from him before Scorpius makes it to Hogwarts, but losing his mother changed Draco. It’s hard to explain, but I think he may almost accept what you’ve been trying to tell him these past years.”

“How do you—”

“You’ve spent time with him. You know what he’s like when he wants to complain about something.”

Harry gave her a knowing look in response, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, it’s kinda impressive.”

Astoria scoffed. “Glad to know someone finds it endearing. Imagine how much he could complain about you in a day, and then multiply that by most days of the year for the entirety of our marriage.”

“Sounds like Harry about him,” Ginny chimed in, sending both women into peals of laughter.

Looking between the two of them, Harry sighed, signalling to the nearby waiter to swap out his glass. This was almost more exhausting than navigating the minefield that was Draco Malfoy, and considering the trials and tribulations Harry had faced in his life, that was saying something.

“What I’m saying, Harry, is that he’s blinded by generations of prejudice—and inbreeding, to be quite frank with you. Scorpius has helped him to want better than that, but for our son, not for himself. You’re on the galleon when you say he doesn’t think he deserves the happy ending you could be for him.”

“I’m not sure those were my words,” Harry said cautiously.

Waving the hand that wasn’t holding her wine, Astoria smiled. “Forgive me for reading between the lines. Now, promise me that you’ll continue to pester my husband so I can go save him from William in good conscience?”

“When you ask so nicely,” Harry murmured, getting only a laugh in response. “Yeah, alright.”

And for all that he may have felt boxed into a corner, Harry couldn’t deny the elation that came with Astoria’s confirmation: Draco still wanted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap up in a few hours!
> 
> so close to the end now aaaahhh x


	19. 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149676303745034/20_dragon_ice.jpg)

_December 2016_

_Harry,_

_I took your advice and was honest with both my family and myself. Astoria insisted upon it, and that woman is scary when she wants to be. I’m not sure she knows how to give up, truthfully. She’s been telling me to write you more than a few sentences all year. I should have, and I’m sorry. I hope this makes up for it, or at least explains my behaviour._

_We went back to Hyde Park tonight, after the Regent Street lights. I thought back on how you told Teddy those stories and about how much joy he got seeing the stag. So, as you can probably see from the picture Scorpius took, I chose a similar approach. I’ll be the first to admit my sculpture was nowhere near as well crafted as yours, but it served the purpose I needed it to for Scorpius._

_My son will go to Hogwarts knowing every detail of the war and what has followed. I can only hope the world is kinder to him than it was me, and that somehow he’s more of his mother than he is me. So far he seems to be every bit as level headed and strong as her, and I thank Merlin for it every day._

_This isn’t easy for me to say, but you were right. I was scared of what the media would say about us, and I know that no matter how accepting the world becomes there will still be an ugly headline in the Prophet. But I was wrong to push you away because of my fears. I should have at least been more forthcoming with you in these past years._

_Astoria and I have decided not to divorce until Scorpius has found his feet at school, but as I’m sure you’re aware, wizarding divorces take quite some time. We’ll begin the annulment process in the coming months and then likely finalise the papers in his second year._

_I know I have no right to ask this of you after all we’ve been through, in particular after what I’ve put you through, but our prenuptial agreement had certain clauses about infidelity in the event of divorce. Yours likely had the same, unless the Weasleys have done away with absolutely all of the pureblood traditions. Depending on when we start the process, I’ll have to be cautious with our communications, and in fact anything more than friendly correspondence is a risk._

_While I want to think that if we’ve waited this long, what’s the harm in waiting longer? I know that life does not work how we always wish it to, and you are more than welcome to live your life without me. We will be divorcing either way, as both Astoria and I agree we each deserve the lives we can pursue without the weight of antiquated traditions hanging over our heads. Should you no longer wish to be with me, I will understand. I don’t like that prospect, but I have chosen my fate in this instance. I will let you know when we have passed the legally required period of separation and see then where your interests lay._

_I am beyond hesitant to send this letter, but I owe you at least this much. Your letters have been both a constant source of heartache and a light in the dark through these past years. I cannot express how much they have meant to me, and how much I regret walking away that night in Edington._

_I miss you too._

_Draco_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keeping it short & sweet with this one 🙃 finally our boy is going through some GROWTH and talking about his FEELINGS! things you love to see: it.
> 
> 19 years later is up tomorrrowwww! 👀 who's excited? **_i'm excited!_**


	20. 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149364591198268/15_grinch_tree.jpg)
> 
> buckle up, it's a bit of a chunky chapter! 
> 
> side note for clarification: despite this chapter being 2017, in this story i am pretending that the wizarding world is incredibly backwards with muggle technology & nobody uses phones etc because we all know the harry potter books wouldn't have played out quite as well if people had been able to simply pick up a phone call to answer questions (no i am not specifically thinking about sirius in fifth year, why are you asking?)

_December 2017_

“I know why everyone was staring now,” Albus said as he cut into his chicken pie. “When we left for Hogwarts, I mean.”

“Oh?” Asked Ginny, passing the gravy jug across to Lily. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause Dad killed the Dark Lord.” At that use of Voldemort’s name, Harry shared a look with Ginny as Albus continued, oblivious. “So everyone was looking at him because he’s a war hero.”

“Who told you that, Al?” Harry asked cautiously, before taking a sip from his Butterbeer.

“Scorpius did.”

There was a stunned pause around the table as Harry’s Butterbeer sprayed the potatoes in front of him, the shock sending it out of his mouth as quickly as it had gone in. “Scorpius Malfoy?”

“Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

Ignoring Ginny’s laughter across the table, Harry wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and wandlessly cleaned what he could of the mess in front of him. “You didn’t mention that in your letters.”

“I did!” Albus said indignantly. “I told you I made a friend, remember?”

“You did?” James said, mocking tone to his voice. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Shut it,” warned Ginny. “You did the same in your first year.”

“Dad,” Albus whined, really drawing out the syllable. “Scorp said that his dad told him everything. How come you didn’t tell us? Some kids didn’t know, but some did, and it was embarrassing.”

“I knew.”

“You did?” Harry asked James. He glanced at Ginny, who gave him a slight nod.

“Yeah, one of the boys in my class told everyone about you when we learned about dragons.” With a shrug, James put his cutlery down to look questioningly at Harry. “Mum said that story was made up.”

Mouthing Ginny a _thank you_ across the table before turning back to the boys, Harry shook his head, amused. “Don’t believe everything the kids tell you at school, okay?”

“Does that mean everything Scorpius said wasn’t true?” Albus asked, puzzled expression on his face. “Because he said a lot about the war, and I want to know what was true. His dad doesn’t sound like a liar.”

Catching Harry’s expression, Ginny silenced them with the promise that they’d discuss it another day and turned the conversation to lighter topics. Listening idly as he mind churned the fact that his son was best friends with Draco’s son, Harry had to laugh at the irony.

“Did Scorpius say anything else at all?” Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant as Ginny stifled a laugh behind her drink.

“Scorp says a lot of things,” Albus said solemnly. “He’s very wise.”

“Not to mention they’ve known each other a few months now,” Ginny said slyly, biting back a grin at Harry’s glare. “Was there something specific you wanted to know, Harry?”

Sighing, Harry rolled his eyes and watched Ginny stick her tongue out at him in response. “Well, you said Scorpius’ dad told him about me. Did he say anything else about that? About his dad?

Albus shrugged, mouth full of potatoes. “Says a lot about his dad,” he said between chews. “He sounds nice. I don’t think Scorp’s ever said anything bad about his dad.”

“Oh,” Harry said. Sitting silently and listening to the clink of knives and forks against plates, he wondered what the Malfoys were doing. If Draco knew that their sons were best friends. If Draco was thinking about him.

“Though last week he was a bit sad because his parents are getting divorced,” Albus added as an afterthought. “But then I told him how cool it is having two houses and he said maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

“He told you they’re getting divorced?” Harry asked, barely keeping his jaw from dropping at the casual nature with which his son divulged this information.

Nodding, Albus shovelled a forkful of potato into his mouth, spraying pieces everywhere as he spoke. “Well, he wasn’t supposed to say anything, because they’re not doing the… what’s the thing they have to do? There’s some fancy word for it. Paper stuff.” Waiting for an answer that never came, he shrugged. “They’re gonna do it while he’s home so that there won’t be lots of kids reading about it at school while he’s there. But he told me because we’re friends,” Albus finished, sticking his chest out proudly.

Mind turning rapidly, Harry felt his eyes widen. “Wait, they’re doing it this week?”

Shrugging, Albus took another bite of his pie. “Said they’d do it as soon as he got home, I think.”

The rest of dinner passed in a daze, Harry’s thoughts a whirlwind of every encounter he’d ever had with Draco and Al’s offhand comments about their divorce.

Seeing Draco at King’s Cross earlier that year had ripped a hole in Harry’s heart once more; it was the briefest of moments that they made eye contact and yet his entire body ached with the weight of what they’d been through. The experience confirmed two things he knew for certain: that he was irrevocably in love with Draco Malfoy, and that he deserved a lot better than what he’d dealt with over the past few years.

So many words had been left unsaid between them. It had taken every ounce of the self control he possessed not to fall at Draco’s feet—metaphorically speaking, of course—and answer his letter last year with a resounding _yes, I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes._ He’d left it open-ended, being as truthful as he could in that he wasn’t sure they could make things work if there wasn’t a more definitive commitment being made, and then respected Draco’s wishes and ceased communication. It had been harder than he’d anticipated; though many of his letters had gone unanswered, it had still felt like there was something between him. Now he was left with nothing but a Draco shaped hole in his chest that he refused to let heal.

Once the kids were in bed for the night, Harry found his feet taking him to the fireplace and Ginny waiting there expectantly, the look on her face torn between amusement and despair.

“Harry, you can’t just show up on their son’s first night back.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Can you honestly say I don’t deserve some answers right now?”

“I’m not saying that you don’t,” Ginny said. “But are you sure you want to do it like this?”

“Yeah,” he said after a long pause. “I won’t be able to sleep until I know what’s happening, Gin.”

Shaking her head, Ginny gave him a soft smile. “I’ll stay here to watch the kids then. Just in case you’re not back tonight.”

Harry let out a shaky laugh. “I doubt it, Gin. But thank you.”

“Just promise me one thing, okay? If you’re going to do this now… don’t settle for vague answers and distant promises. You’re lucky I’m much happier as we are, or I’d be pretty pissed this is the guy you ended our marriage over.”

“I didn’t—”

“It was a joke,” Ginny said, laughing. “But I do mean it. Don’t settle. Nobody’s worth that, not even Malfoy. No matter what you see in him.”

***

Cillor showed Harry to the study, assuring him that Master Draco would be taking his tea in there before bed. It appeared he hadn’t been alerted to Harry’s arrival, as the shock that crossed Draco’s features as he entered wasn’t masked carefully enough for Harry not to notice it.

Opting to ignore pleasantries in place of bluntness, Harry stood across the desk from where he sat and squared his shoulders, trying to exert more confidence than he felt at seeing Draco again. “Albus told me you’re divorced,” he began, the accusation clear in his voice.

Looking down at the papers on the desk in front of him, Draco nodded. “Finalised as of about four hours ago.”

“Were you planning on telling me?”

A crease appeared between Draco’s brows. “You made it quite clear where you stood when it came to us. I didn’t think there was any point.”

“I— what?”

“And you stopped writing,” Draco added.

“You told me to,” Harry said, confused.

“Yes, well. That had never stopped you before.”

Eyes narrowing, Harry shook his head. “Do you realise how you sound right now?”

Draco continued on as if he hadn’t heard him. “And you barely looked at me in September.”

“Draco, we were—”

“You sent me a letter saying you didn’t know if you could be with me after all, and then I didn’t hear from you again.” Voice raising with every word, Draco stood up from his chair and threw his hands up in the air. “What was I supposed to think?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry snapped, collected approach going out the window. “Draco, you are describing exactly what you put me through when you left that night. “

“I said I was sorry!”

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry huffed. “Well, maybe sorry isn’t enough.”

“If that’s the case, then why show up tonight at all?” Draco stormed around the desk, coming face to face with Harry, rage radiating off them both and filling the room. “You barge in here, throwing accusations and demanding answers as if you actually—”

With a growl, Harry cut him off. “Merlin, do you know what it’s been like for me? You ignore me for years, keeping communication to the absolute bare minimum, and then out of fucking nowhere,” he said, hands tearing at his hair as he began to pace. “You tell me you’re getting a divorce at some point in the future, but you don’t know when! And you can’t talk to me anyway, and then you finally get your divorce and just… Don’t tell me because you are stupid enough to think that me respecting your wishes to not communicate is me no longer being interested?” Stopping to turn and look at Draco, Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. “I bloody wish I wasn’t interested, Draco, because you’ve been a right piece of work for years now.”

“You wish you weren’t interested?” Draco’s voice was cautious, guarded, eyes trained on Harry like he was a Basilisk about to strike.

“Yeah.” Harry let out a sour laugh, shaking his head in frustration. “Yeah, because despite how ridiculous you’ve been, I still want this. And I want to believe that things could be different, Draco, I really do. But you have to understand that you’ve gotten my hopes up and then run away too many times now.” Pleading tone creeping into his voice as he spoke, Harry’s words were a desperate whisper. “I’ve given you so many chances.”

Draco looked away, eyes glistening in the low light. “I know I don’t deserve another chance,” he said, voice quivering as he spoke. “Merlin, I didn’t even expect you to have waited this long. I thought I’d fucked up forever.”

“You still might have,” Harry admitted, though the words felt like a lie. “Draco, why didn’t you just talk to me? We could have avoided so much of this.”

“Because I was scared!”

The raw truth shone through in Draco’s shout, voice breaking on the final word. Harry looked at the man before him and saw the boy he’d once followed to a second floor bathroom, fear written across his face, chest heaving with shaky breaths that rocked his entire body. Eyes filled with terror affixed to his own. Terror and longing that he felt reflected in his soul.

Harry was on him in an instant, pressing Draco against the mahogany and sending the small Christmas tree and mountain of paper on his desk crashing to the floor in his haste. Hands pinning wrists to the desk, mouths insistent and warm, reacquainting themselves with an unmatched urgency. Bringing a hand up to tangle in blonde strands, Harry let out a muffled groan at the feel of Draco’s lips beneath his. The kiss was rough around the edges; anger twined with want, fear coupled with lust. Everything Harry had felt over the past years without him—both good and bad, and all shades in between—was poured into the press of his tongue against Draco’s, the roll of his hips, the desperation of his

He could feel it answered in the fingertips that had slipped under his shirt gripping so tight that he could feel the bruises forming, the soft sigh of his name turned moan that was swallowed between them.

Pulling back lest he get swept away in a lustful haze of avoidance, Harry took a moment to breathe, feeling his restraint waver at the sight of dishevelled Draco that stood before him. Looking equally as out of breath and off-kilter as Harry felt, Draco gave a shaky smile before clearing his throat.

“I feel like I should apologise for that, though it wasn’t me who started it.”

With a short, breathless laugh, Harry shook his head. “Of all the things you could say sorry for…” Trailing off, he saw Draco avert his eyes to the mess they’d made of his study. “That wasn’t the one I came here for. If anything, I should be sorry for getting carried away.”

“Do you regret it?” His voice was low, the tremble in it only noticeable for how well Harry could read Draco after so many years.

Stepping forward once more, Harry lifted Draco’s chin with a finger, eyes locked on his. “No. You’re hard to regret, Draco.” Pressing a chaste kiss against the other man’s mouth, he felt the corners of Draco’s lips pull up in a serene smile.

“I’ve missed you,” Draco murmured against his lips.

Withdrawing from the kiss, Harry sighed. “I need more than just I miss you, Draco. I need to know that the next time something doesn’t go your way, you’re not going to walk away and then never speak to me again.” Watching Draco’s discomfort as he reclined against the desk once more, Harry shook his head. “I won’t wait around for you again.”

“And I won’t ask you to.” There was a determination to Draco’s voice, sounding almost like he was issuing a challenge. _Give me one more chance, I dare you. I won’t get us wrong this time._

It was endearing, and enough to make Harry’s breath catch in his throat. Maybe they could navigate the pain, if Draco could get it through his head just how much this was his final chance. “I’m not sure you get it, Draco. When you told me to sort things out with Ginny all those years ago… You were right. I was running from my problems.” Shaking his head as he thought to the men they’d been back then, Harry sighed. “I thought I needed to be better for you, but I know now that I actually needed to be better for myself. All those years, I wanted a version of you that I thought was doing the same, because surely if you were the reason I could do it, you could too, right?”

“Harry, I—”

“No, I’m not done.” Taking a steeling breath, Harry pushed on. “Maybe we jumped into things too soon when we first did, but we managed two bloody years of things being okay between us. I know it wasn’t much, just taking time where we could find it, but it was still two years, Draco.” Harry’s voice cracked with the weight of his words, tears brimming in his eyes. “Then you ran at the first sign of conflict. That kid was just parroting some nonsense he’d heard his dad say, and you didn’t even give us a chance to get past that. You’ve had excuse after excuse and while I understand why, I need to know that you’re actually in it for real this time.”

Hardly daring to breathe, Harry wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and watched as Draco nodded, chewing on his lower lip in thought.

“I’m terrified,” Draco admitted after a moment. “At first, I thought it was because of what the world would say. This study was my father’s, you know. I haven’t seen him since Mother’s wake,” he added with a sigh, a sadness seeming to come over him. “He’d be horrified if he saw what I’d become.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry said gently.

With a laugh that was more like a bark, Draco shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor between them. “I do, and honestly? I’m glad. I spent my whole life wanting to please him, to fit the role of the Malfoy heir. Mother, rest her soul, wasn’t much better when it came down to it and when— when it happened,” Draco said, voice stumbling over his words as it shook. “Astoria and I talked about what we wanted to do. I’ve been more stubborn than I needed to be because I was scared of being what my father was, when really I think all I’ve done is show Scorpius that it’s more important to lie to protect your family name than to live life how you want to.”

“From what Al tells me, you’ve done a good job at showing Scorpius that you’re happy.”

Meeting Harry’s eyes with a defeated stare, Draco shrugged. “Then I guess I’ve satisfied the Malfoy name with that lie after all. I’ve stopped myself from being happy, Harry. More than that, I’ve been a selfish prick and you deserve better.”

“I do,” Harry admitted, taking a tentative step forward and looking down as he gave Draco’s hand a squeeze. “But for some stupid reason, you’re all that I want. So if you can promise not to run away again, Draco, then I think we might be able to give this a try.”

With an answering squeeze of his hand, Draco pulled Harry closer, arms wrapping around him so tightly Harry thought he may never let go. “Merlin, you’ve no idea how scared I was I’d never hear you say that,” he admitted in a whisper, lips pressed to Harry’s hair. “I’m so sorry. I won’t run away again, I promise.” Pulling back enough to press a quick kiss to his forehead, Draco’s unsteady breath came in hot across his face.

Their eyes met, the cascade of emotions that passed between them enough to fill a million lifetimes. Above all there was hope, and the promise of something worth fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeeee okay i was quite nervous to share this one because it's what i've been working up to (in case y'all couldn't tell!)  
> i've chopped and changed it so many times now, but i feel like this is exactly how i need this to be to actually feel comfortable moving forward with the drarry pairing bc we gotta make these boys confront & admit to their own faults for anything to be healthy, right?
> 
> it's all uphill from here!
> 
> (please note that this is where my epilogue compliance ends, i am not killing off astoria, my girl deserves a better ending than that)
> 
> next chap up tomorrrow x


	21. 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149322668998686/14_Polesden-Lacey.jpg)
> 
> happy new year everyone! i hope 2021 is wonderful and kind to you all 🥰💖

_December 2018_

Harry wasn’t sure if he had been quite as petulant as James by fourth year, but the difference between the boy he’d sent off on the Hogwarts Express a few months ago and the one who stood before him on Platform 9 3/4 was undeniable. Watching his son sulk at nobody in particular, Harry bit back a grin upon seeing Lily’s attempts to distract him with her overly enthusiastic questions about Hogwarts; she was due to start in the coming year and her excitement could barely be contained. Hugo stood beside her, wide eyed as he watched the students coming home for Christmas reuniting with their families. One of the last to disembark was Albus, arm in arm with Scorpius, and making Harry’s heart ache at the similarity in appearance to he and Draco at their age, while quite the contrast to their behaviour.

“Dad!” Albus shouted, making a beeline for where Harry stood waiting. “Is it true that we’re going—”

“Oi, voice down,” James interrupted, eyes scanning the platform around them.

“Oh yeah,” Albus said before dropping his voice to a whisper barely loud enough to hear. “Dad, are we really going to visit Scorp’s house for lunch tomorrow?”

“Er,” Harry began uncomfortably, realising that all of the children surrounding him were staring. “Did Scorpius tell you that?”

“My dad wrote to me about it yesterday,” the young Malfoy said with a serious tone.

“Thought we agreed not to mention it before you got home,” Harry muttered under his breath, a soft snort from James the only indication anyone had heard him. “Er, right. Yes, Al. I was going to tell you all when we got home.”

“Bit late for that,” James said as he rolled his eyes at Harry. “Soon as Al knew he practically screamed it at us.”

“I did not! I only said that—”

“Did so. I’m amazed the whole train didn’t hear you.”

“Great,” Harry groaned. “Just great.”

A familiar laugh sounded behind him before Scorpius broke free of Albus’ arm, running over to wrap his arms around Astoria. “Mother, you’re here!”

“Scorpius, dear. It’s wonderful to see you.” Over his shoulder, she winked at Harry with a playful smile. “I’ll have him at the Manor in the morning in plenty of time for your date.”

“Do I get to see your new house?” Scorpius asked, excitement practically radiating off him in waves as he cut off Harry’s retort. At her answering nod, he turned his head back to look at Albus. “Al, I get to half-live in London!”

***

Harry’d told the kids when they came home for the summer, knowing that Draco was doing the same with Scorpius once the divorce was public knowledge. The media had run with the story as far as they could, which in truth wasn’t particularly far; the Malfoy family’s fall from grace was becoming but a distant past, the future that Draco had so meticulously tried to forge for them holding more weight with every passing year. He and Harry weren’t yet official to anyone outside of their closest friends and family, intending to keep it that way until they had both settled into their relationship and its place in their lives.

To his children’s credit, they had taken it better than he had anticipated—Ginny told him he was a chronic over-worrier these days—which he was eternally grateful for. That didn’t make it any less nerve-racking, however, as he brought the three of them to Malfoy Manor to meet his boyfriend for the first time.

In the end it turned out he needn’t have worried. Albus and Scorpius were too delighted at the prospect of more time together to allow anyone’s mood to dampen, and even James seemed to brood a bit less as the day passed. After Cillor had served lunch in the East Wing, Draco had suggested they go outside to see the grounds and that’s how they had ended up in their current predicament: supervising a snowball fight that seemed to suspiciously catch them in the middle more often than not.

“Al, if you throw one more at Lily while she’s on the ground I’ll leave you at home next time!” Harry called out, shoving Draco lightly as he laughed beside him. Turning to look at him, Harry smiled. “They seem to be enjoying themselves. Even James,” he added with a laugh. “I was worried he would kick up a fuss.”

“About me?” Draco asked, feigning horror at the thought. “Who in Merlin’s name wouldn’t like me?”

“Shut it, you prat.”

Laughing, the two of them came closer together as they watched the chaos unfurl before them. Harry felt Draco’s arm brush his, the contact welcome after an afternoon of trying to keep affection to a minimum. Looking up at Draco beside him, Harry saw the happiness he felt reflected back at him, a warmth spreading through him at being surrounded by people he loved.

“They seem to like it here,” Draco said slowly, head gesturing towards their children in the snow. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, wondering what Draco seemed to be hesitating to say.

“I’ve been wondering… What would you think about moving here? We’re together more nights than we’re apart these days, and I know,” Draco said quickly, silencing Harry’s immediate response. “We spend most of our time at your house. I love it there, I really do, but I can’t give up the Manor, Harry.”

Hearing the finality in his words, Harry paused, wheels spinning in his head. There was no doubt in his mind that living with Draco was what he wanted, but the Manor hadn’t been quite what he’d envisioned for them. Could he live in a residence that held so much darkness in its past?

In the past year since their conversation in Draco’s study, Harry had come to Malfoy Manor more times than he’d ever dared to hope. It had been more frequent in the early months, when they’d still been navigating their issues from the years of dancing around one another and keeping the secret from their respective children. Astoria had been able to entertain Scorpius, allowing them the space to be alone and uninterrupted. After everyone had returned to school it had simply made more sense for Draco to stay with Harry, so that on the nights he couldn’t have Ginny watch Luna, Draco could floo over after she’d fallen asleep. Harry associated his own home with their relationship more strongly, but perhaps that was simply because they had become more comfortable with one another during the time they’d spent there.

“I can hear you thinking,” Draco mused with a fond smile.

“Nice to hear you say I’m thinking at all,” Harry retorted, watching Draco roll his eyes in response. “It’s a lot to think on, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to make any decisions today,” Draco reassured in a low tone, mindful eyes on the children near them. “I think it’s worth waiting until Lily starts Hogwarts anyway. Take some time to consider it.”

Gloved hand finding Draco's beside him, Harry took hold of it and squeezed gently. "Yeah, I'll think on it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are on the home stretch now! only the tiniest bit more ~angsty times~ to go through, but it's mostly domestic fluff from this point onwards.


	22. 2019

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149756230533140/22_buche-de-noel.png)

_December 2019_

Harry watched as Draco fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper, taking slow breaths like Harry knew he did when something was had made him angry or was particularly stressful. It was the latter today, of course; they’d decided it was time for Draco to meet the family and if they didn’t leave in the next two minutes they were going to be late.

Despite the fact that Draco had been the one to broach the topic, it was clear that he was feeling in over his head right now. Knowing better than to preemptively reassure him, Harry counted slowly to ten in his head.

He made it to four before hearing Draco clear his throat.

“Are you sure we have to do this today?” Draco asked,

“Would you rather the first time you meet everyone be at Christmas? Kids and all?”

With a sigh, Draco nodded. “You’re right. It just feels a bit…”

“Scary?” Harry teased. Squeezing Draco’s hand, he gave a soft smile. “I’ve got you, love. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

“Besides, after facing the press more times than I care to remember this year… What’s a den of Weasleys?”

“Your family, that’s what.” Eyes downcast, Draco mumbled his next words. “I want to make a good impression.”

Heart swelling with appreciation for his boyfriend, Harry gave his hand another squeeze. “They’re going to love you. You’ve already met most of my family anyway. The kids love you.”

“James is up for debate,” Draco muttered as he rolled his eyes.

“James is a teenager who has issues with everyone, Draco. Not everything is about you.”

Looking away, Draco’s voice was small when he next spoke. “It feels like it might be today.”

“It’s going to be fine. You’ve seen Hermione at work plenty of times now, we’ve had dinner with her and Ron, Ginny will be there to support us—”

“And the rest of them still remember me as the person I was twenty years ago.”

“Do you really think so?” Shaking his head, Harry placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders, voice tender. “You don’t think everyone else has had the chance to grow as much as we have?”

With a sigh, Draco shrugged. “I want to hope that’s the case.” His eyes searched Harry’s face for a moment, their grey depths seeming to find whatever it is he was looking for before he stepped forward into Harry’s embrace.

It was the way Draco trembled slightly in his arms that gave away how important he considered today, a few warm breaths rustling through Harry’s hair at an uneven pace. Feeling Draco slowly relax into him, Harry held him tighter with a proud smile into his chest.

Draco pulled back after a few moments, rolling his eyes at what he clearly deemed a sappy expression on Harry’s face. “Let’s get this blasted thing over with then.”

Sliding his hand up to Draco’s shoulder, Harry pulled him close one last time and pressed a kiss against his jawline. “Stop overthinking today, alright? Everything’s going to be great.”

Tilting his head down to meet Harry’s lips with his own, Draco said nothing, his conflicting emotions clear as day in the urgency of his movements. Desperate sighs, hands tugging slightly harder than necessary at his messy hair. This time it was Harry who had to pull away first, knowing that being late would cause Draco more grief than he ever cared to admit. He led the way through the Floo, confident that Draco would only be a few short moments behind him as he arrived to a bustling room that quickly fell silent as he stepped through.

Determined to put on a brave face for both of them, Harry stepped forward and embraced Molly, eyes locking with Ron’s over her shoulder; he gave a thumbs up and grin of encouragement. Hermione stood beside him, looking behind Harry where he presumed his boyfriend was still standing. Heartbeat seeming to echo in the silence around them, Harry stepped back with his hands still on Molly’s shoulders, encouraging smile on his face as he watched her eyes flit between him and Draco behind him. He held his breath almost on instinct, despite knowing—hoping—that his family would accept Draco in all the ways he needed them to.

And then Molly was embracing Draco; what little tension had built instantly left the room, Harry taking in Draco’s apparent shock over her shoulder with a grin. Making the rounds to greet everyone, he kept a watchful eye across the room as Weasley after Weasley gave Draco the same warm welcome they’d extend to any of the family and he felt his heart swell so much he thought it might burst.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly until halfway through lunch, a late arriver joined their midst.

Percy was a sporadic attender of Weasley lunches these days, often too wrapped up in working overtime—or being a pompous arsehole—to stop by. Quite frankly, Harry didn’t care much for the man. They’d crossed paths a few times during his Auror days and none of the memories were particularly pleasant, with Hermione’s reports of interdepartmental negotiations reaffirming this; she said they were a downright horror if he was present.

It should have come as no surprise that after excusing his tardiness with an offhand comment about _dedication to improving things, despite being below his pay grade_ that Percy would have something to say when he noticed the new addition to the dining table.

“Shacked up with a Death Eater, eh? Seems a bit counterintuitive to your whole thing, if you ask me. Still, I suppose you have let things run away from you since quitting the Aurors. Shame, I really had high hopes for you Harry. Shouldn’t have thrown your lot in with this crowd.”

“Shut it, Percy,” Ron warned.

“What? I’m only speaking the truth. Those of us at the Ministry were quite astounded when the news broke.”

“Not all of us,” Hermione muttered.

“I’m only saying that if it weren’t for him, Fred wouldn’t be—”

There was a scraping of chair against floor as George stood abruptly, mouth pressed into a thin line. Harry watched as the man’s eyes flickered around the table seeming to look at them all without actually seeing any of them, before George quickly walked out into the backyard and left an echoing silence behind.

Percy was the one to break it, grabbing his drink and taking a swig before speaking again. “See what your actions have done, Harry? You could be so much more than this.”

Ginny snapped, pointing her finger across the table at him accusatorially. “Percy, this wasn’t Harry at all. This was all you.”

“I’m not the one who—”

“Oi! I think it’s time for you to leave,” Ron cut in, glaring daggers from his seat.

Percy’s eyes seemed to scan the table, whether hoping for someone to disagree or challenging them all to add their voices to the argument, Harry was unsure. After a few terse moments he stood, slamming down the glass he’d been holding. Watching as the Butterbeer sloshed its way over the brim of the glass, Harry barely heard Percy depart over the rage that flooded his senses. It took a few moments before he could tear his eyes away from the slowly pooling liquid, glancing sideways to see Draco sitting stunned, face a shade so pale he was almost translucent.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Harry heard Hermione whispering to Draco. “George hasn’t quite gotten past the loss and Percy… Well, Percy’s an arse.”

Ron snorted to her left, and Harry felt Draco relax slightly, shoulders dropping as he picked up his glass with shaky hands and took a drink.

The clinking of cutlery against plates was horribly loud in Harry’s ears after that, with conversations around the table dampened by what had transpired. Tensions were thick in the air, though Harry tried his best to ignore it. He knew that Draco could feel it too, the heavy atmosphere pressing against his skin and the way it made his throat feel as if it were closing in. They made it through lunch in relative silence, Harry sensing Draco’s growing anxiety and taking their cue to leave as soon as could be considered polite, after dessert; it was sinful to leave before Molly served the Yule log.

When they were home, Harry did his best to reassure Draco that the family _did_ actually approve of and accept him—the irony of Draco needing the Weasley’s approval not lost on him—and breathed a sigh of relief when he finally came around to the idea that the conflict had centred around Percy’s wankerish behaviour rather than a decades-brewed mistrust in him personally.

There was another Weasley jumper knitted that year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait (and the mild angst!)  
> uploading the next chapter now and it is pure fluff as an apology 🥰💕


	23. 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspired by [this prompt](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761408070617530368/783149162065690634/10_sock_feet.jpg)
> 
> pls enjoy this incredibly self indulgent fluff (also this is MY fic so we are ignoring the canon of 2020!)

_December 2020_

Relaxing into the fingers working their magic on his stiff shoulders, Harry let his eyes float slightly shut and enjoyed the sound of the crackling fire that filled the room. From beneath his half-closed eyelids Harry could see the three boys sitting on the couch opposite him, feet dangling above the floor clad in matching woollen socks. The entire family had a pair; Lily had demanded matching Christmas outfits and this was as far as they’d gotten without too much complaint from the boys. His were visible where his legs stretched out before him on the floor, Draco’s somewhere beside him as Harry sat leaning against the chair he occupied, nestled between his legs.

Seeing James looking across the room at Draco in the chair above him, Harry tensed slightly beneath Draco’s hands, eyes opening fully to preempt any bad behaviour before it could take off. Something seemed to transpire between them, a conversation held with their eyes alone—it reminded him of Ron and Hermione and his heart ached with the nostalgia—before there was a subtle nod from James. Curious, Harry turned his head up to look at Draco who glanced away as soon as their eyes met.

“Is it alright if I take Al and Scorp up to my room? We won’t wake Lily on the way, I promise.”

Turning to look at James, Harry was slightly wary of the mischievous look on his son’s face but could see no reason not to let them go. “Er, sure thing. Head to sleep soon though, alright?”

“Thanks, Dad!”

Certain of the fact that he saw James wink at Draco as he left the room, Harry again turned to the man behind him, demanding answers.

“What?” Draco said, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man want reprieve from his children every now and then?”

“We’ve only got them for two weeks,” Harry pointed out. “I want as much time with them as I can.”

“If all the kids were home for more than a few months at a time you’d go a bit crazy, admit it.”

Harry shook his head. “You know what? Moments like this, with the two of us and all of the kids… I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, Draco. I’m so glad we gave us a chance. If this was how I spent every day for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t mind.”

“You absolute sap,” Draco said fondly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

Harry smiled, hearing the love in Draco’s tone. He looked up at his boyfriend in the chair behind him, seeing Draco watching him with a slight crease between his brows. “What?”

Speaking quietly, Draco looked towards the crackling fire. “Do you remember what you said last year? When the papers found out about us?”

“That the Prophet’s a load of shit?” Harry guessed, unsure what Draco was getting at. “That we ought to protest outside the Ministry until they gave us better quality journalism?”

Laughing, Draco shook his head. “Aside from the obvious. We were talking about how it would impact the children. You said you couldn’t see what the fuss was about anyway, it wasn’t like we were eloping or causing a scandal.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, turning back to look at the flames as he tapped at Draco’s hands on his shoulders in hopes of more massaging. “What about it?”

Working his fingers back into the knots of Harry’s shoulders, Draco continued softly. “You said you didn’t mind if we never got married. That you’d understand if it would be too much attention for scorpius, because even after all my years of stupidity—”

“—you weren’t entirely stupid, Draco, we’ve been over this—”

“—you still understood that I needed to put him first. And even now, knowing that the world is used to us being together as a family, you’d probably say the same thing.” Laughing quietly, Draco’s hands stilled. “You’ve always been so bloody selfless, Harry. Even when it goes against what you want, or sometimes your best interests. It’s downright infuriating—

“—excuse me, that’s not very—”

“—and it’s one of the things that I love about you most.” A fond sigh sounded, Draco shifting slightly behind him as he removed the hand on one of Harry’s shoulders. “You’re always trying to do the right thing, trying to see the best in others. Even me. Especially me, though Merlin knows sometimes I don’t—”

“—you do deserve it, Draco, don’t you dare—”

“—Harry, would you shut up for a moment please? I’m trying to ask you to marry me here.”

“—and I… Oh.” Harry felt his jaw go slack as he tilted his head back to look at Draco once again, watching him smile nervously as he procured a ring from seemingly thin air.

“You’re lucky I find your oblivious nature charming,” Draco muttered, giving a squeeze to the shoulder his other hand still rested on. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, I love so many things about you, and despite all of the reasons we’ve given one another over the years for this not to work… Well, against all odds, you may just be the best thing to ever happen to me. I’m sorry I was such a stubborn fool for so many years, and now that we’re past that, I hope you’ll agree to tolerate me for many more. As my husband,” he added nervously, mouth seeming to trip over the words. “Harry James Potter, will you marry me?”

It took him a few flabbergasted moments to find his voice and then Harry was saying “yes, yes of course” and tasting wetness as tears he hadn’t realised he was crying found their way to his mouth. Draco was sliding the gold band on his finger and bringing his face down to press their lips together, awkward angle be damned, as their hands clasped together as if to defy anyone who ever made them part again.

**Author's Note:**

> fic updated daily!!
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](https://davonysus.tumblr.com) x


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